


The badge of his identity

by siriala



Category: Actor RPF, CW Network RPF
Genre: Adoption, Bottom Jared, Consent Issues, Courtesan Jared, Double Penetration, Gangbang, Hurt Jared, Hurt Jensen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Past Abortion, Politics, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 22:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 69,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4455638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriala/pseuds/siriala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen Ackles is for Jared the perfect way to rise to the rank of most sought-after courtesan of his time. But when Jensen becomes a lot more than that and carves himself a special place in his life, Jared's not sure he can handle the pressure.</p><p>This is Jensen and Jared's lives, over the course of ten years ; how they find themselves and each other, and make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The desire of the man

**Author's Note:**

> Story written for the 2015 challenge, title from Camille Paglia and chapter ones taken from Madame de Staël and Paul Éluard.
> 
> The story is set in an alternate Belle Époque in which homosexuality is not a sin and male courtesans can be just as famous and courted as the female ones. Also set in some indistinct and made-up countries that you may recognize at times, if you squint and look aside… Not really a kid fic but there is a kid involved, adoption, mention of abortion, miscarriage, death during childbirth. Political commitment and discussions of political and societal beliefs (if you're a die-hard royalist, you won't like this fic). Lorettes were prostitutes, thus named because they lived near the Notre-Dame-de-Lorette church in Paris. They were supported by more than one protector at a time to ensure a regular income. Courtesans were better paid and could be more choosy in their dealings. See the [author's notes](http://artsiriala.livejournal.com/30121.html) for more details on this and other topics referenced in the fic. You can also find a [Who's Who page](http://artsiriala.livejournal.com/27749.html) on my LJ.
> 
> Thanks to Wendy for organizing this year again such a wonderful challenge, to the fabulous honscot for her constant support and friendship, and to bellagattino for her very beautiful artwork that I encourage you to go admire right now, right [here](http://bellagattino.livejournal.com/28656.html).

He checked his image in the mirror. Eyebrows adroitly plucked to not look plucked at all, just neat and disciplined. Hair just as neatly combed, falling in lush waves on his broad shoulders covered by a silky, shimmering black jacket, short and tight-fitted, fastened in the middle of his torso by two lavender frogs in a faux-military style, a marvel of haute couture design created especially for him and more expensive than what his mom used to spend in a month, back when he was a kid, to feed the whole family. The deep mauve shirt gently flattered his wealthy skin tone, miles away from the pasty complexion of the cheap whore he had once been.

Smoky eyes emphasized with eyeliner. Moles highlighted by the black beauty spots he had made fashionable again.

He covered his ears with his hair to try it on for size but then tucked it back behind them. Maybe a touch of glossy lipstick on his lips. Light, discreet pink. Harmonizing with his shirt and underwear.

He looked perfect already, his face beautiful enough to make angels weep. Nothing to do with narcissism ; after so many years selling his charms to the highest bidders, doing his best to push himself always further up the tricky, slippery ladder of the world of courtesans, Jared had to know how much he was valued. How many men wanted him. The way they wanted him, and how much money they'd agree to part with for the pleasure of his company, to be seen next to him, to appear worthy of his interest, and rich enough to buy his time.

Jensen Ackles was not among the richest, but he was certainly worthy enough. He was beautiful too – more beautiful than Jared to be honest – in a nonchalant, manly way. As if beauty was a hazard Jensen had had to deal with, the least important part of his personality, best forgotten and ignored. He would have made the worst competition, had he chosen the same career as him. But Ackles was a journalist, one of those men who could make or end a reputation in his gazette with a few lines of respectful words or acerbic witticism. He was known for being tough but fair, very opinionated on certain topics but trustworthy in his judgments. If Ackles, who had never seemed interested in courtesans before, spoke highly of him, Jared's reputation would know no bounds anymore. Foreign clients would travel from their faraway lands to knock on his door and beg for five minutes of his time. The richest men in the world, the most resplendent kings, would pay thousands of whatever money they used to see him naked ; millions to sleep with him.

He had to seduce Jensen Ackles. If he did, he would become the leading courtesan of the capital. And he might afford to be free at last of Morgan's hold.

Speak of the devil. Ever the perfect valet, Chadwick opened the door after a light knock and introduced his visitor.

"Master Morgan, sir."

"Jeff," Jared acknowledged without interrupting his self-evaluation. "This is not a good time for a social call, I'm due at the restaurant in less than an hour."

"Let them wait, Jared, they will desire you all the more. I thought I had taught you that trick long ago."

"You did. But they say that punctuality is the politeness of kings."

"Which you are not, so let's keep it simple, shall we ? I'm sure your _beau du jour_ will happily wait a few more minutes for the prospect of fucking you."

"Not this one," Jared countered, "he's special."

"Really ? Are you falling in love ? You know that's not in your job description. You're a whore, you don't have time for that."

Jared sighed, resigned to explain himself.

"I'm not falling in love. I hardly know the man yet, just saw him twice in passing. I'm meeting with this journalist, in a much more intimate setting than before, in the hope of getting free publicity."

"Always a good idea. Who's the journo ?"

"Jensen Ackles," Jared answered after a while, seemingly transfixed by his own image in the mirror.

"Ackles ? I heard about him. He doesn't do people pages, he covers world politics and financial scandals. Boring topics, even more boring people. And he certainly does not gravitate in your usual circles. How did you manage to score a rendezvous with him ?"

"You know I have my ways. Why would I sell my body if it didn't get me what I want ?"

"Because you're only good at being fucked and you owe me too much to quit ?"

The minute trembling of the brush held assuredly by Jared's hand in the previous instant as he applied the cream on his lips was the sole proof that Morgan's words had hit a sore point. But the bastard saw it, of course. He enjoyed few things the way he loved to rattle Jared's chain and remind him who was the boss ; who had power over the other and could make him do anything he wanted.

"I love your mouth for its sheer size," Jeff commented, "but this color on your lips is genius. Makes it downright obscene !"

Jared saw immediately where this was going.

"I don't have time for anything, Jeff."

"You'll make time, Jared."

The steel in Jeff's voice. It had followed Jared since his late teenage years, from the day the man had turned him into a whore.

Everything was always an order with Jeff, but at times like this, Jared was reminded with impeccable clarity that his only choice was to obey. The hand on his shoulders forced him to his knees, then Jeff quickly opened his dress pants that indicated that he too would be going soon to some nightly event. As soon as Jared had performed his art.

As his right hand surrounded Jeff's girth, Jared admired the beautiful manicure he had gotten earlier in the afternoon. Smooth skin and short nails meant pleasant caresses, something all his clients had always praised about him.

His eyes closed as his mouth opened. Whatever the part of his anatomy, Jeff was not a small man. His taste about sex went to the rougher side of the spectrum. Fucking Jared's face without regard for his breathing capacity. Inserting himself deep into Jared's throat, trying to choke him. Silly attempt fated to failure.

Jared hadn't made it to the rank of courtesan thanks to his sharp mind, but because he was a master in this art. And many other sexual ones.

Cock and balls, meet hands and tongue. Again. Lick and suck, stroke and squeeze.

Jared let the storm pour over him, provided Jeff with the best blow job a pimp could ever wish for. Tucked him back into his pants. Remembered to put on his own face the blissed-out expression of the satisfied lover. Never mind that his cock hadn't even twitched.

Never mind. Jeff was oblivious as usual. Correcting his clothing arrangement to look proper as a politician, he neglected to offer Jared a hand to stand back up.

"Don't forget I have invited a few friends this weekend at the countryside manor," he reminded Jared instead, business as usual. "They requested your presence insistently, you are going to be the main attraction once again. I need you on your best behavior."

Jared would not give him the satisfaction to display how much he hated that kind of event, where he was fresh meat at hungry bears' disposition and after which he generally had to follow the doctor's order for bed rest and no work for a week at least.

"I know, Jeffrey. I've never let you down, have I ? You know I pride myself on a job well done and leaving my clients happy. Nothing worse for someone like me than having the reputation of a prissy bitch who won't put out."

"I know you like to take it up the ass," Jeff stated, joining said ass with one of his hands to stroke it and feel the give of the flesh under his fingertips. "Just don't let some pretty journo's appreciation go to your head and make you think you're now above those little weekends of fun. Because we both know it won't ever be true."

Not that Jared had ever entertained the hope that they could be.

"Well, your friends might get tired of me someday," he suggested anyway.

One of Jeff's hands took hold of his waist and brought him in close contact, while the other one slid under Jared's pants and his lacy underwear to get to his skin ; to his asshole, that two fingers breached in the same movement.

"I say who and I say when people get tired of you ; you just obey. Is that clear ?"

"It's always been very clear, Jeff. I'm merely implying that I won't be forever young and pretty, and that some people prefer variety."

"Then you'll have to give them variety, stretch your talents and please them. Don't believe for even one second that I'll let you go if you don't make enough money. I'll just take a bigger part of your earnings and make you work double."

Jeff waited to see if Jared had some rejoinder to share, his fingers still playing in Jared's ass for a while. When it became evident that Jared would remain silent, Jeff let go of him and rinsed his hand in Jared's washing basin.

"Make sure you remember who you belong to, boy," Morgan concluded with a stinging slap on his ass before he headed out.

Posted in the downstairs hall, Chadwick helped Jeff put his cape and top hat back on before Jared heard him wish a good night to the visitor, then the sound of the door opening and closing indicated that his pimp was gone for good. Jared let out a sigh of relief.

With a determined shake of his head, Jared forgot what had just happened to get on with his task. He washed his teeth and mouth before he applied the pink cream on his lips again. Then he smiled brightly at his reflection.

Jensen Ackles wouldn't know what hit him.

Jared had long ago learned to get himself in tune with his clients' habits and mores, to use his formidable ability to gauge, with each new person, the right balance between playing himself and the part those men wanted him to become, as reflected by his clothing choices.

One of the things he had found out about Ackles was that the man was a stickler for punctuality, so Jared arranged to get to the renowned restaurant five minutes before his appointment's time.

Even then, the journalist had made it already and Jared had to go swiftly through multiple hand-kissing and many invitations hopeful would-be lovers threw at him upon his arrival. As the maître d' took Jared's cape, purple so deep it looked almost black, and his coordinated hat, a modified faluche that showed off his hair prettily, he informed Jared that his guest was waiting for him in the Vaporous Boudoir that Jared had made downright infamous, for it was the place where he concluded most of his deals. Meeting for the first time in a neutral environment encouraged each party to feel more at ease, able to leave at any time in case the negotiation went wrong.

Jared didn't expect anything to go wrong tonight, but the Boudoir remained some kind of fetish for him, a good luck trick from which he drew support. So much of his future lay on the shoulders of the attractive man standing up to greet him with an appreciative glint in his remarkable and expressive green eyes.

Upon each occasion Jared found himself in front of Jensen Ackles, he realized his memory had once again underestimated the man's gorgeousness. Unless he proved a real jackass, Jared was going to enjoy every minute of sleeping with him. He couldn't wait particularly to discover how those pretty, plump lips would feel, on his own if he was so lucky, or anywhere else on his body.

Some kind of electricity saluted their first touch as Ackles took the hand Jared was offering in both of his.

"Jared, I was looking forward to this meeting."

The journalist bent over Jared's hand to apply a sweet but lingering kiss that had Jared grinning wide. It seemed his work was halfway done already.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mister Ackles."

"Please, call me Jensen. I hope we won't stand on formality tonight. I'm here so that we can get better acquainted."

"Very well, Jensen," Jared agreed and he gripped the other man's fingers tighter to show his appreciation.

God, those eyes ! Those lips ! The man was hot, so very hot that Jared had to banish the need to get on immediately with the sex, foregoing dinner and seduction. But then, he hadn't been attracted to someone in eons, such a long time that it looked like a new experience he wanted to make last and relish.

He felt unbalanced, but predominantly surprised. Beyond this unexpectedly fierce desire, it had been a very long time since Jared had been unable to read a potential client and was left unsure of his path. But therein lay the problem, right ? Jensen was neither a client nor a lover. He was a category unto himself, one that Jared had never approached or dealt with, one that could bring him to a state of attraction unlike anything he had experienced before.

Jared desired a man. For himself.

Jensen showed he had been raised as a gentleman as he held the chair while Jared sat at the dinner table, but he was still direct enough to scoot his own chair over, nearer to Jared's around the curved table, their hands separated only by a few centimeters of pristine white tablecloth. It was easy to guess that their knees weren't much more apart, to imagine that all those limbs would probably come in contact soon, governed by a mutual attraction too powerful to deny.

"I'm so delighted you accepted my invitation," Jared initiated the conversation. "My desire to meet you properly goes far back in time."

"Is that so ? Was it because of something I wrote ?"

"Nothing specific, but yes. Your articles, as well as your reputation, called to me. I thought we might be same-minded enough to enjoy a good discussion. Then I saw you, and my decision was made. None of your colleagues I've met had me wishing for any kind of close encounter."

Jared operated under the certainty that Jensen Ackles liked honesty and that he would not be charmed by flattery. He felt like he was riding a fine line between his attraction for the journalist and how vocal he could be about it. A modicum of subtlety was necessary here. But a frank approach of the deal was just as important to show that Jared was trustworthy and decided. As for the driving force behind his action, he would let Ackles infer if Jared's lust was just adorning his opportunism, to make it more presentable, or if his will to climb socially had taken a back seat to the hope for intense physical pleasure.

He was not quite sure himself of the answer now that he was seated next to the other man. He thought he had prepared for any possibility – that Ackles would not be interested in the end, that his talent in the sack would be so abysmal that Jared would have to put to good use his considerable array of professional tricks – but he hadn't foreseen his own reaction to the journalist's absurd sex appeal.

How very stupid of him ! As Jensen and he launched into small talk, Jared was reminded that, for all his years in the business, he was still a man subject to physical needs and primary attraction. It was a fight with himself to put the deal into motion and not engage in a simple but outrageous flirt.

"I'm happy we're able to talk so freely."

"You're the one who makes it so easy. Let me be blunt : you seem incredibly wholesome and stable for someone doing this job. Is that a façade ?"

"I guess I'm just wired that way. Why fret and worry when you can be happy, you know ? And as far as my job goes, all things considered, I can attest that I've been pretty lucky. In the end, it may be because of my sunny disposition that this career, which certainly wasn't a vocation, offered me so many opportunities."

"So why did you get into that life ? You're obviously learned, and smart. You could have chosen any career."

"It's more a matter of the job choosing me, than choosing the job. I learned early on that my body was my best asset and not to let anyone have it without paying."

Jared held Jensen's gaze for a long while before he went on.

"Unless I want it, of course."

He offered his hand, sliding it palm up over the table, and Jensen took it, slowly stroking along his life line with the tip of his thumb in a hypnotic manner that sent shivers through Jared's whole body.

"I may be doing this for the first time," Jensen recognized, "but I'm not totally clueless. I thought we were here for a… transaction. A business affair."

"It doesn't mean pleasure can't be sought and obtained by both parties in the process."

"I would hope so, even though I might have trouble measuring up to your previous lovers."

"That's not what I heard through the grapevine."

"Really ? You got me curious, here. I'm not famous, I don't mingle much with high society outside of a few friendships, unless there's information to be gained and used for my profession. I'm not the kind to flaunt it, and I only ever have one lover at a time. I was able to come here tonight because I ended my last relationship two months ago. Turned out he was not as faithful as he claimed to be ; my frequent travels made it quite easy for him to see other men. I was pissed but I doubt it made the headlines any more than the rest of my private life. But I'm here first and foremost, I must admit, because I was curious about you. Contrary to me, you are the kind of person who makes the headlines. I heard about you a lot, and I wanted to see for myself if half of those rumors were true."

"It would be my pleasure to help you find out. Just like I'd love to know if the rumors I heard – obviously through different sources of information – saying you're a very focused, very thorough lover are true. I want to experience how magnetic and irresistible you are."

"So I'll make a point of not disappointing you."

Jensen brought Jared's hand to his lips to kiss the palm. A pang of desire expanded from Jared's abdomen to his chest, a tidal wave that didn't stop before it got to his toes and the roots of his hair, exquisite and troubling sensation previously unknown despite his many lovers. He actually wanted this, the seduction and the foreplay. Maybe it was the fact that no money would be exchanged, or maybe it was all Jensen, but he really wanted it ; wanted, instead of just having sex, to know what making love meant, with a strong man who wouldn't compromise his beliefs for a courtesan ready to do just about anything to him.

He had to finalize the deal right now.

"From your previous words, I assume you're aware of the kind of services you and I can bring to the other."

"Indeed, I've been told about meetings of that kind between some of your colleagues and a few of mine – lucky fellows !"

"Do you have questions ? Worries ?"

"I admit to wondering how much I rate for you. I know already that you had Stuart introducing us at the biennial exposition, because he knew both of us and you probably thought it would look like less like a set-up, that I wouldn't be as wary of your intentions with such an informal meeting. What I don't know is how much he made you pay for that service, after the little stunt you pulled on him two years ago."

Jared should have known that Jensen would not be fooled by their fortuitous encounter, and that he would do his homework before tonight's meeting. Just like he should have known that this stunt Jensen had evoked would come back someday to bite him in the ass. Literally. But Jared didn't have a mean bone in his body – he had had to be very, very angry to think of that stunt in the first place – and it always proved difficult for him to imagine nastiness in other people.

Back then, Jared had taken the duke's money for fifteen minutes of his time ; fifteen minutes he had employed to disrobe enticingly, slowly untying all the knots and laces he had purposely fitted his clothes with, only to throw his would-be lover out once the time had been over. Stuart only got to see his bare chest and his long legs, not his gorgeous ass that had taken over the city a few months before and was the talk of the whole nightlife, and he certainly didn't get to fuck him. Jared despised Stuart since the man had abandoned one of his lorette friends, who Stuart had convinced to become exclusive with him, after he had gotten her pregnant. He downright hated him after the duke didn't even bother to send flowers for her funeral when she had died giving birth to his bastard.

No need to mention that the hate was mutual after their failed encounter, especially when Stuart's discomfiture had made it to the gossip lines and ridiculed him forever.

"One week," Jared answered softly, eyes hidden behind his bangs because honesty was not his strong point, driven out of him a long time ago, and he had a hard time sharing when everything about his life meant being who his clients wanted him to be, not his real self. But he was pretty sure Jensen would see through any lie and he didn't want to risk it. "I had to give him one week after you and I met, and agree to everything in advance, as long as it wouldn't injure me or put indelible marks on my body."

And Stuart had made sure this time to get his money's worth, keeping him naked and fucking him like the most desperate whore, anytime and anywhere he wished, beating him just as easily. But the hellish week also seemed worth it to Jared, cost-wise, now that he was seated in a private room of the most fashionable restaurant, next to the man who could change his future. Once more fascinated by his incredibly focused and so pretty eyes. By these lips made for kissing.

Jensen looked like his breath had gone with Jared's revelations but he recouped quickly.

"One week," he repeated, stunned. "One week with _Stuart_. It never occurred to me that I could rate so high. Not on your scale, anyway. And I can't believe the duke was still enough of a fool to introduce us before you gave him anything in exchange."

"I guess he knew how much meeting you meant to me. Maybe he thought that you'd see right through it, and then you'd disapprove of my duplicity in case I wasn't faithful, or you'd be disgusted by what I had to do to get my wish."

There was kind of a question mark at the end of Jared's sentence.

"Then he was wrong. I admire tenacity and professionalism. And he underestimated your appeal by a mile, it's evident now."

Jared's heart skipped a beat. For some muddy reason, the idea that Jensen Ackles was attracted to him had taken on a whole new meaning in the few moments they had just spent together. Not so much a professional victory as a personal gain.

"Does it mean that maybe you wouldn't have agreed to this rendezvous with someone else ?"

"I'm not sure. Probably not as readily, in any case. Not so impatiently."

Dinner went on, punctuated with succulent victuals and pretty sweet wines, and Jared's gut feeling consolidated into a tangible truth. Jensen and he shared many interests and likes, ranging from philosophy to an appreciation for beautiful men, via popular music and simple cooking. And if on occasion their opinions didn't match, Jared never felt belittled or judged for his – he noticed it at the same time he realized he had felt at ease enough to speak freely about his personal likes and dislikes, without particular regard for the fact that they matched Jensen's or not.

Sexual tension rose progressively between them, up to the point where they decided to forego dessert. As the waiter left after serving the liquors, Jensen drew his chair even nearer and took hold of Jared's hand again. He linked their fingers over his thigh and watched them.

"Before anything happens," he said, pensive and looking for his words, "I want to make this clear : I wasn't sure I would go with the deal when I came here tonight. It felt kind of…mercenary, even if I'm pretty sure many think that one would have to be stupid to refuse such an opportunity to be with a man like you. I've had my fair share of wild and crazy relationships when I was younger, quite a few one-night stands too, but nothing that resembles what we're about to do."

"Does it mean... ?"

"Yes, I'm sure I want it now. Because it's you, and there's no doubt I want you. You're pretty much the sexiest and most seductive human being I've ever met, but I've also enjoyed this evening and I really appreciate the person you've let me see. If you want this too, then I'm game."

Jared's response was to lift Jensen's hand to his face to caress his lips with the knuckles. Then Jensen spread his fingers to cup Jared's cheek, somehow getting even closer in the process.

"How do you like it ?" Jared enquired. "Do you enjoy taking charge ? Or would you prefer that I do all the work ?"

"Other than my preference for topping, I'm pretty flexible. But tonight, I think I'd like to take charge, if it's okay with you ? Get to disrobe you the way I want, piece by piece, at my own pace. Would you enjoy that too ?"

"More than anything. I'm yours to play with."

It was all the invitation Jensen needed to lean forward. Jared's eyes begin to close, wanting to enjoy Jensen's lips on his own without any other stimulus to disrupt the sensation, but they opened again when Jensen paused in his move.

"Can I kiss you ? Do you even kiss ?"

"Oh yes, I very much want you to kiss me."

The teasing began, Jensen's mouth meeting his own only to withdraw, tiny licks of his tongue as a proof of the other man's continuous interest. Jared let go of his expectations and doubts, willing his body to live in the moment, in the fierce pleasure of having the most beautiful man slowly unleashing his desire. He had been so right to wish for the feel of Jensen's mouth, inside and out, new and exciting ; for this glorious feeling that kissing was a goal in itself for Jensen, not just a means to an end, the fastest way to Jared's body.

The journalist's other hand, the one not occupied in Jared's hair, found his waist and slid around to get to the small of his back before it began to roam leisurely up, up until the large expanse of Jared's shoulders. Even through the light fabric of his shirt, Jensen's heat did things to Jared that soon became apparent.

"Maybe we could take this to the alcove ?" Jared suggested breathlessly when Jensen's lips left him more or less able to speak.

He was not usually the one to speed things up, but there he was, ready to burst and so hungry for Jensen's touch. In such a hurry to see his body, too, to feel skin against skin.

Of course, they had to separate to do so, to stand and walk to the alcove, push the curtains open to uncover the bed. It took a few more minutes of kissing and heavy petting before they found in themselves the will to finally stand apart for a short moment. Even then, Jensen clung to Jared's back while Jared prepared their love nest, and he kept on kissing the nape of his neck, sending shivers right along Jared's spine.

Soon, his jacket was gone, and his shirt unbuttoned. In the next moment, Jensen's hands were on his chest, mapping his pectorals and stroking his nipples with fingers and mouth to the sound of Jared's enthusiastic and truthful encouragements. And then his trousers went away, and Jared was left in nothing but his lacy and unusual underwear.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you ?"

Jensen's smile turned hungry while his fingers scouted the separate pouch keeping Jared's balls snuggled together, and next the see-through sheath encasing the length of his cock, save for the top of his crown, leaving his slit unobstructed. Jared held his breath.

Men loved to unwrap him, like a gift, a treasure. The infinite possibilities felt like a game. Some simply untied his sheath to let his cock hang exposed while his ass and balls were still covered in lace, some kept it all wrapped, playing with the slit of his dick while they detached the hole behind to reveal his more personal, intimate opening. Jared had an indecent collection of special underwear at home, and it seemed he had chosen the right one to entice his new lover.

Jensen admired him for a long while, his hands stroking Jared over the racy lace.

"You're just as beautiful as in my fantasies, but reality feels incredibly better."

Jensen finished uncovering his whole body then, bit after bit of skin appearing under his hands, like performing a magical trick whose ultimate goal was to get Jared naked and offered.

Nudity had stopped bothering Jared a long time ago. Too many men had watched him, at times as a simple means to fuck him, sometimes enjoying the view even more than any other sexual activity. Sometimes even with the notion that Jared's nakedness embodied his helplessness, enhanced their own dominance.

Nothing was farther from the truth. Nudity had come to mean next to nothing, save for the way Jared dealt with his clients' own fascination for his bare body.

Yet here he was, unbalanced once again to realize this wasn't true with Jensen. A part of him felt happily licentious, sexually charged by Jensen's devouring stares. Another part complained about Jensen's still complete clothing, fueled by his own need to see more.

"You know the reverse is true," Jensen said, and then went on when he picked up on Jared's questioning look. "I'm also yours to play with."

Jensen's explicit permission dispelled in Jared the fear of wanting and taking too much. On their own accord, his hands went in search for the warm body, alternately soft or hard in all the right places. They disrobed, they gripped and stroked and mapped in their turn.

Damn ! Jensen didn't need any alluring underwear to be the most attractive man Jared had ever seen. He was strong and battle-scarred, manly and eager. He was all of Jared's fantasies summed up into one of the prettiest packages he had ever had the privilege to sleep with.

They spent an unusual amount of time discovering each other's body. With other clients, Jared might have felt dearly the passing of minutes but he found he enjoyed all of them this time, taken by the same need as Jensen to feel that he knew the terrain, but not as a simple visitor ; that he could claim and be proud of his thorough knowledge of this magnificent man. Of his body, at the very least.

He followed Jensen's hands' silent order and laid on his front, secure in his body's seduction. Jensen's eyes moved like flames on his skin, warm and heavy, quicker than his fingers, almost as arousing all along his buttocks. Left and right, and up and down, and Jared let a small, unexpected whimper escape his hold.

Jensen's lips felt but like a kiss on his hole, the fluttering of wings on his delicate flesh as his lover's fingers traced his rim over and over, reverent discovery that made him feel new and clean.

"You smell… true. Earthy."

Strange choice of words, but still Jared understood. Contrary to other courtesans, and unless he was paid for something different, he only ever used basic hygiene products and the scent his clients got was his very own. He disliked the heady perfumes and sugary fragrances some of his colleagues drenched themselves with. Jensen, it seemed, shared his preference, his scent, so natural and personal, crazily attractive to Jared's nose.

"Do you have condoms ?" Jensen asked, his voice wrecked by desire.

Jared extended a searching hand towards the side of the bed where a drawer hidden by tulle and muslin opened for him and revealed its treasure of scented oils, rubbers and Vaseline. The next drawers contained many toys that he wouldn't need tonight, not right now anyway.

He disposed a vial over a small bowl heated by a flame to make sure the jelly would be soon brought to a nice warm temperature. Jensen quickly took over after more kisses, dipping a finger to check the lube's readiness before he brought it back to enter Jared's ass.

Jared turned again, and then he bent his legs and tilted his hips to give Jensen full, unrestrained access, smiling with satisfaction at the man's avid gaze. He found himself thoroughly prepared, lovingly opened, one more finger inside him, and then yet another one, completely at ease under Jensen's care.

"I'm ready now, and I want you."

"What's your favorite position ? Is there something you imagined for the two of us that you'd like to try together ?"

"This is generally my line, you know ? It's my job to make sure you get to live all your fantasies."

"In my fantasies, you enjoy yourself just as much as I do."

It shouldn't have hit so hard. Not all of his clients were selfish brutes who just took and never gave back. Some were even great people with whom Jared had an equally great time, regardless of the fact that he was paid for it.

None of them had shown the genuine care for Jared's feelings and pleasure Jensen offered so freely. His fees built a wall between him and his clients, so resistant that most feelings couldn't pass through, climb or bypass it. Most men were very okay with this, protected from getting involved, and Jared counted himself as one of them, all the more happy because it also made him rich.

"I like it this way," he then acknowledged, "face to face."

He watched as Jensen stretched the condom on his cock and he couldn't resist gathering some Vaseline to coat it with, stroking the shaft slowly with his firm grip, one way then the other. Up and down, and a little twist right before the crown, varying pressure meant to arouse and frustrate, to push Jensen to take him at last, to fuck him senseless.

His eagerness paid off and his reward was more teasing. Jensen's smirk told him all about the man's need to lead right now, as he pushed his fingers once more into Jared in lieu of his perfect cock. Jared's hips tilted up again, begging for more action, for Jensen's invasion.

"Jensen, please, I need you."

Jensen gave in finally, and the way he slid into Jared was slow but confident. Jared surmised such a gorgeous man had had many lovers eager, especially in his young age, to teach him about lovemaking. It was a happy turn of events that he hadn't developed arrogance and condescension over it, just an easy confidence allowing him to care for his lover and forget about technique.

Jared's back arched impossibly at the first touch of Jensen's cock against his prostate, basic, simple caress that never failed to send him high. Jensen didn't miss his reaction and he offered him the gift of his strokes again and again, passionately watching Jared keen and moan, drinking from his lips the words asking for more. Always more.

The rhythm changed, accelerated. Still his prostate lightened and sent fire throughout his whole body. His cock throbbed, rubbing against Jensen's stomach with every one of his thrusts. He tracked with his eyes the little drop of sweat sliding along Jensen's face, and then his neck, up until it crossed his throat and Jared's tongue snatched it. His lips closed on Jensen's neck, sucking bites and kisses into his lover's skin to make sure he would be remembered tomorrow and the next few days, hoping that his impression on Jensen would go far beyond a shallow love mark.

"More," he begged again, knowing it would end soon.

Neither of them had the power to make it last much longer, but they could certainly go at it deeper, and harder. Jensen gave it his best shot, spreading Jared's legs wider, creating more space for himself, and shoving at him forcefully. Jared's moan morphed into cries. The string quartet in the restaurant room behind the wall engaged in a loud and animated polka-like piece to drown the sounds of Jared's pleasure.

Jensen's head came down to suck on each of his nipples, and then to kiss him some more, enough to give them both time to calm down a bit before he went anew, just as forcefully as before.

In no time, they were walking the edge again, more than ready and eager to fall into this alluring abyss together. They pushed for more, sloppy kisses and random caresses bringing them always closer. And then they stumbled over, Jared first, closely followed by Jensen, and it was a long time before Jared was able to take in his surroundings again, the persistent odor of sex, the warm body nestled against his, the need to kiss some more.

They dozed for a while, and then made love again, twice, getting always higher until they were too tired to do anything more than kiss and talk, and sometimes not even that.

"What are you looking at ?" Jared asked when he woke up after another nap to find Jensen watching him, something close to an unusual lack of self-confidence creeping in his voice in response to such a long and unbelievably amorous stare.

Jensen's hands answered first, coming up to trace the highlights of Jared's face.

"You. The way your hair riots after love and fights to escape while your features soften. Even your skin doesn't glow in the same manner. It feels… content."

Jared had had a novel writer for a client once, at the beginning of his rising through the ranks of prostitution. The idea that maybe he could become the man's muse had motivated his decision to sleep with him when Jeff wasn't so hot about it, arguing the author was a noted spendthrift who might never pay for Jared's work. And he had been right. Not only did the guy fuck him like he was a woman, he didn't care what a prostitute could think about literature or sociology, only asking about what Jared's days looked like and the ways in which he satisfied his clients, obviously looking for facts for his next story rather than the inspiration of a beloved muse. Jared had felt in the writer more compassion for his characters than for a fellow, lowly human being.

Today, he had invited Jensen with a very mercenary goal in mind, rid of any romantic notion about muse and love, and Jensen did this to him. The journalist proved to possess more of a poetic streak than his famous writer. More gentleness too, and an eye for observing people to their core that left Jared just as breathless as their lovemaking.

He felt he had been made love to for the first time in his life. He wished to repeat the experience, to do it again and again to make sure it wasn't a fluke, a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

They said their goodbyes and parted ways in the next hour as dawn was breaking outside, Jared strangely reluctant to put an end to a unique encounter that had brought him personally far more than the intended outcome. Jensen seemed to suffer the same predicament and it softened Jared's melancholy. Despite his few moments of uncertainty along the course of the night, he was pretty sure right now that Jensen would agree to any other offer to meet again. No publicity required, no strings attached.

He would wait for Jensen's article and, if the man proved trustworthy, Jared would consider with pleasure allowing himself a love life on the side, free of fee and duty.

Jared woke up as his valet entered after a light knock. Without a word, Chadwick set the tray on the nightstand and glided silently towards the window to open the curtains. The noonday sun invaded the bedroom, painting lively and warm colors on the walls and furniture.

Jared sat in his bed, feeling a bit sleepy still, but mostly fabulously sated, in a way he hadn't for a long while. No pain in his ass this morning, although he remembered how thoroughly Jensen had used him. How lovingly he had taken care of him.

Chadwick came back just as silently to put the tray over his legs but, instead of filling his cup of coffee like every morning with the steaming pot, he unfolded the journal lying on the tray and offered it to Jared.

"I recommend that you go directly to page 4, sir."

Jared looked blankly at the Gazette for a moment. The Gazette ! Jensen's newspaper. Could it be that… ? So soon ?

He flipped the newspaper to the fourth page and yes, here it was already, under one of his most admired photographs, the article he had been hoping for. Jared closed his eyes for a second, praying he didn't really know to whom that Jensen wouldn't let him down.

_**Modern courtesan, by Jensen Ackles** _

_Meeting Jared Padalecki was akin for me to a transcendental experience. So much beauty and spirit in a single frame would be too much for anyone else, and as soon as you find yourself in front of the lauded courtesan, you understand why he's so tall and broad : no other silhouette would have allowed for such a strong personality._

_Polite and well-mannered, he knows how to listen ; far from being just a pretty face, he understands what you say as well as what you mean. You're possibly amused or turned on by his clothing quirks and surprisingly sexy underwear. You might let yourself be distracted by his carnal envelope, the perfection of his smiling face, the slanting of his eyes, the little moles that beg for the touch of your tongue, just like his lips beg for yours and his bottom begs for the caress of your hands. But Jared won't let you forget that he's more than the sum of his physical assets, as otherworldly as they look._

_He's muscular, yet slender still, his chest a thing of beauty that can only get more attractive as Jared will become more and more of a man. This abdominal gorgeousness never lets you question the protectiveness you feel over the person, as if the child Jared used to be, not that long ago, this child is still there, close under the surface, showing in playful laugh and big gestures calling for your attention. And you want to indulge him._

_You know you're besotted and yet you can't help it. You take it all in and you want ; a blazing, easy-in-its-thoroughness-and-evidence want. Then you succumb, willingly._

_There's a strong will behind this fiery gaze, and it's all turned on you, to make sure you're enjoying your time in his presence. Despite a life that probably had its fair share of tough moments and scary encounters, enough to lead to such a career, there's no sense of bitterness in the man. You find yourself enraptured by the wide smile enhanced by deep dimples, showing yourself off and preening to make sure he'll bestow another one on you soon. Like a drug, you need Jared's full attention, the feeling that you're the only person in the world for him in this instant, and maybe still in the next ones. You're proud of capturing his interest and engendering the kind of conversation best suited perhaps to a library or a university thesis. He matches you, idea for idea, arguments for counterarguments. He makes you think as much as desire. And he gives as good as he gets. In any way._

_Of course, he's not without the artifices that have made him and all his colleagues famous around the world for the pleasures they're associated with. He's mastered all the ways to laugh seductively, to ensure that your eyes will be caught by the view of his long neck that you suddenly want to bite and lick, regressing to the mental state of our more animalistic ancestors. You want to claim him as yours, grip his lush mane and drag him back to your cavern to have your wicked way with him. In all his alternately playful and dirty tricks, Jared makes you want to possess him. You want to hear him moan your name in passion or cry out in delight, just as much as you wished to impress him with your brain a few minutes prior._

_And then you're sated but you can already tell that you won't ever forget those hours spent with the most attractive and fascinating courtesan of our century, that they will be part of the highlights of your life, the kind of memories you'll enjoy telling your peers when you're old, living in your past more than the youth's present. Those young people of the future, who may not have had the chance to know Jared Padalecki in his full glory but hopefully will always remember the one important thing about him, the truth I want to end this piece with._

_More than a courtesan, Jared Padalecki is a good man, one that you'll feel better for knowing._

It was not even two o'clock in the afternoon when the first messenger arrived with an invitation from the Earl of Ashby to his Naughty Cotillion on Wednesday night. Jared had crossed the man's path more than a few times but never had the earl saluted him or acknowledged his presence in any way. But Jared now held in his hands the elegant calling card inviting him personally to the most elitist of the cheeky soirées of the Bon Ton. All because of Jensen's praising prose.

He would have to prove that he was just as good as the journalist had written. He felt ready for the challenge, ready to mingle with those people and show what stuff he was made of, the reason why he had impressed Jensen Ackles.

Five more invitations found their way to his house in the next hour, brought by obsequious valets who wouldn't have known Jared the day before, opening for him the doors to events previously beyond his social circle. Each one heralded the reign of Jared Padalecki over the nightlife world and the subsequent fortune he was bound to make.

Dressed and ready for the day, Jared sat at his desk to reply. Those invitations would have to wait, though, because the pride he felt receiving them paled next to the feeling Jensen's words had awakened in him. It was as close to a declaration of love as he had ever gotten, the most beautiful testament of devotion and admiration, from a man he thought he could learn to love in return.

He would make time for Jensen, whatever Jeff had to say about it ; he would offer to include his new friend in his more private life, to share intimate moments with him in the sanctuary of his own bedroom, not the one he reserved for his clients. If the journalist was able to accept his job's obligations, then maybe they could make something of this mutual attraction. Jared wanted to believe in him, in them together.

Decision made, he selected his best pen and the blue ink he favored, specially made for him, to issue his pressing invitation.

_My dear friend Jensen,_

_I'm calling on you to join me this afternoon in my humble abode at your earliest convenience. There are so many things I need to tell you, to share with you, that I'm not sure this rendezvous will suffice in this enjoyable task but I know we'll be able to arrange for more informal meetings in the future to partake in our love for philosophy and good food. I can't wait to explore further the kinship we discovered last night._

_Until then, your devoted,_

_Jared Padalecki_


	2. Negative treasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"[…]people succeed oftener by those qualities which they have not than by those which they possess. Absence of enthusiasm, absence of opinion, absence of sensibility, a little understanding, combined with this negative treasure, and social life, that is to say, fortune and rank, may be acquired or supported well enough."_  
>  Madame de Staël, Corinne ou l'Italie (1807)

Jensen made his way to the dining table slowly enough to give his hostess the necessary time to finish her tale. His hand on Jensen's other arm, Jared followed at the same pace the hungrier guests and Jensen didn't need to look at him to know a true smile mellowed his flamboyant appearance.

Jared was especially stunning tonight, in his deep green frock coat and other clothing parts assembling various and still harmonious shades of the same color. Jensen couldn't help kissing his hand before he let go of him to help his hostess to her seat.

Aliénor's parties always offered the most delicious entertainments, among which Aliénor herself. Born Ellen Geer, widow of the eccentric marquis of Effingham, she claimed to be a left-hand descendant of the famous Aliénor d'Aquitaine, hence the nickname she had succeeded in imposing to the whole society she liked to amuse every now and then, thanks to her wild parties or the more sedate but still animated and thoroughly enjoyable dinners.

Jensen could argue without boastfulness that he was one of Aliénor's favorite guests since Jared had introduced them. Not in the same way as Jared – he was pretty sure, considering the way she never shied away from touching Jared quite intimately, that the old woman had been one of the few persons of her gender to hire him in his courtesan capacity, though he had never asked either of them and preferred to remain blissfully ignorant of the answer – but a favorite anyway.

Attuned to some gossip sources that never proved faulty, Aliénor always knew when Jared had a current client to satisfy and it was better for everyone not to invite Jensen at the same time. Inversely, she also knew to pair them at her table, just like tonight, and put in a word to any other hostess of the capital to make sure they would enjoy each other's company if possible. Next to Misha, Jensen's photographer and best friend, she had been one of their staunchest allies since they began to date.

In almost two years, many had looked upon Jensen with sorrow, certain to see him ruin his life in the pursuit of someone who would never be entirely his. Others despised him, as they imagined that Jensen had taken to live off the courtesan's earnings, a pimp who wouldn't name himself.

Jared hated the vilifying comments spoken behind his lover's back, but Jensen could understand how his article had given this wrong impression. He couldn't care less about those people's opinions, anyway.

The article also had another amusing side effect on his reputation, one that Jensen had to deal with pretty much every time he met another courtesan.

"I'd love to show you how transcendental I can be, Mr. Ackles," was one of the sentences he had heard the most as an overture in recent times, and it never failed to make him laugh.

"Get lost," was Jared's invariable answer whenever he spotted the competition rounding up on Jensen, followed by a firm grip on Jensen's arm to lead him away.

Jared's show of possessiveness was always welcome. Not that Jared had anything to fear on his account. Jensen was definitely a one-man lover, and Jared was everything he desired. But hearing him vigorously assert "he's mine" in response to any attempts at seducing Jensen never failed to take his breath away.

He was Jared's indeed. He could only wish – although he never dared voicing it out loud – to be able to say the same about his beautiful lover, and believe it.

Be that as it may, Jensen never really allowed himself to forget about Jared's clients.

Corin had fucked him twice since Jared had woken up to find both his hands tied to the headboard. Plea or anger, nothing had brought his troublesome client back to his senses, even though their contract clearly stipulated no ties and no blows.

Although he tried to avoid thinking of Jensen during a job, the situation instantly reminded Jared of his lover's advice regarding his current client. Nemec and Jared's boyfriend were just passing acquaintances, having met at the time they belonged to the same regiment – though, according to Jensen, to know the flighty captain one had to visit salons instead of battlefields, as Corin only ever babbled about war and never sullied his uniform with blood or gunpowder. But being marked as a coward didn't mean the man was peaceful or gentle, and Jensen recalled vividly the rumors spreading about Nemec's violent urges in his private life.

Which was why Jared had tried to get out of this job, but Jeff had insisted ; something about a favor to an old friend whose son needed a bit of grooming before he could get married at last.

In Jared's opinion, no amount of grooming would ever be enough to make the vile man enticing to any prospective debutante whose fortune the Nemecs might covet. Corin was loud and crass, indeed violent, and his efforts in a bed concerned exclusively his own pleasure, often at the expense of his partner's. His conversations all turned around his passion for gambling and the numerous people he pretended to have fucked. Jared had gotten bored of him on their first night out, and nothing had made him change his mind since then.

Corin was getting more and more irascible as he tried and failed to force an erection on a kneeling Jared by swatting his ass. He finally relented, only to push his cock into Jared's exposed hole.

"The rubber, you stupid fuck !" Jared exploded. "You forgot the rubber !"

He hadn't always used the precaution of a condom but he strived more and more to be safe, essentially for Jensen's sake, and even more when it came to men like Nemec who had no qualms about putting their dick into whatever hole passed them by.

"Shut the fuck up, you whore ! You can't even pretend to enjoy this, let alone give me a good orgasm. You're just an overpriced slut and you're gonna take my dick the way I want it."

Corin's rhythm turned frantic, hips and balls slapping Jared's rear end with every thrust. The lubricant jelly had all but disappeared since the first time they had sex last night and the friction was quickly becoming painful.

"You're hurting me, Corin. At least use more Vaseline."

"Quit being a pussy ! I told you to shut up. I'm sick and tired of your big mouth."

Few customers had ever treated Jared that way since he had earned his stripes as a top-notch courtesan. It was always a shock to rediscover the human's villainy through an act that could be so beautiful and exciting with the right person.

He could take it, though. He was strong, in body and in mind, and he was not about to let a clown like Nemec bring him down.

He fought with all his might to free himself, ignoring the savage pounding of his sore ass to concentrate on the rope and the knot tying his hands.

It worked, but by the time he was free at last, Nemec had finished and emptied himself in Jared. He lay on the bed to get his breath back after his tremendous effort and Jared took the opportunity to get up and clean with Corin's shirt the sperm dripping out of him.

"You filthy shit !" Nemec's exclaimed when he realized what Jared was doing. "You can use your own whorish outfit."

"Your jizz, your shirt," Jared replied. "Maybe it will teach you to use a condom next time, but I won't be here to see it."

"What's that supposed to mean ?"

"That I quit, you dickhead. Your daddy will have to find you another whore."

Nemec was on Jared in a second to slap him on the face.

"You take that back right now, or I'm gonna give you the bashing of your life."

"You don't scare me, Corin. Let go of me."

"I said take that back !"

"And I said let me go !"

Nemec did let Jared go. He pushed him violently against the wall, following to hit him again and again. As he protected himself, Jared stumbled over a chair and slipped. He landed on his left arm and the searing pain almost had him losing consciousness.

He waited for Corin to calm down, hoping in vain that breaking the poor innocent chair against the wall would help channel his anger, before he realized there were not enough chairs in the house for that and he stood up, grunting and cradling his arm. Ignoring Nemec once again, he walked towards his clothes and gritted his teeth with every step to contain a moan of distress.

"You've been paid to serve me. You won't leave, I forbid it !" Nemec ordered, marching towards Jared to block his path.

"Watch me !" Jared yelled back, unimpressed.

Despite the pain, Jared let go of his injured arm to make a fist of his right hand and throw it with all the force he could muster. It crashed with a very satisfying crunching noise on Nemec's nose.

Corin went down like a bag of coal and he stayed there.

He had hit a client. For the first time ever, and Jeff would probably chew him out for it, but Jared couldn't get to regret his actions. Not when the pain in his arm was getting worse by the minute and he was pretty sure it was just as broken as his thankfully former client's nose.

He stepped over the still unconscious Nemec – out in one hit, who was the pussy now ?! – to search for his clothes and then dress, as quickly and as well as he could, before he left, stumbling, for his doctor's office.

"Jared !" Dr. Williams exclaimed, "What happened to you this time ?"

"Can I say that I fell from my bed ?"

"Not if you want me to believe you."

"Yet it was almost the case. I tripped over my own feet and my arm caught my full weight when I hit the ground."

"And who helped with the tripping over part ?"

"You know how clumsy I can be, doctor."

"In other words, you won't tell me. Very well, let's take your shirt off and see how bad it is."

Jared let his vest slide from his shoulders before the older man assisted in removing his shirt with the utmost care and minimal moves.

With a few palpations, Dr. Williams deemed Jared's radius effectively broken and he called his nurse – who also happened to be his wife – to assemble all the things he would need to immobilize the limb.

Jared refused to watch as he was treated, lost in a haze of numbing drug and residual pain.

"You know, Jared," the physician said as he was almost done, applying on his arm white bandages saturated with some concoction to keep them all glued together, "this might be the sign that the time has come for you to stop. Don't you think that boyfriend of yours would be happy to get you all to himself ?"

Jared laughed, more than he ever would have without the drugs. He didn't even wonder how his doctor knew about Jensen without ever hanging out at the same receptions Jared did.

"I'm not that cruel, doc," he answered. "Jensen deserves someone far better than me."

"Isn't it his choice to make ? Do you really think he's going to be happy to see you like this ?"

"No, I reckon he won't be happy. He's kind of… protective. Loving."

"So I rest my case. Give it a thought, will you ?"

"Okay, doc," Jared agreed with a smile.

He felt so great now. At peace. The whirlwind of his life had slowed down and Jared was able to decipher strange animal forms on the office's ceiling. It reminded him of a nursery rhyme and he thought he heard Jensen's beautiful voice humming next to his ear. Only Jensen could make the moment any better. Jared began to sing with him, undisturbed by Doc Williams telling him he would have Chadwick fetched to take him back home.

Hastily, a young messenger delivered a message from Jared at the Gazette, leaving in a run again right after Jensen handed him a few coins, as if afraid that someone would take them back.

Jared's letter was short and to the point, asking for the pleasure of Jensen's company – immediately if it was at all feasible. Jensen then found that he had nothing better to do than enjoy Jared's heady presence.

He departed in his turn, followed by Misha's smirk, with the same kind of precipitation as the young courier.

It was not that he didn't see Jared regularly, but Jensen had realized early on that the one or two nights a week they got to spend together could never be enough for him. Therefore, he had let Jared know, in the most obvious way, that he was authorized to call on him anytime he was free and ready to spend some time together. Pride had no bearing in this, not for a man in love who would agree to anything to be with his lover. He didn't care that Jared slept with other men, never felt threatened in Jared's affection by his clients. What Jensen cared about was that those clients kept Jared away from him as he had to entertain them mostly during the hours Jensen at last wasn't busy at work anymore, banning for them a more normal relationship with their clashing working hours.

They had to find other moments and occasions to meet. Jensen had thus stopped feeling guilty about spending hours at Jared's during the day. He couldn't always stay for long, was even obliged at times to rush their encounter, but it always proved worth the hassle. And he felt his impatience was mirrored by Jared in everything.

Even Jared's staff was caught in this whirlwind romance of theirs. It showed again this time when it took hardly two seconds for Chadwick to open the door once Jensen had knocked with his cane.

"Good afternoon, sir. Mr. Padalecki is waiting for you in the green bathroom."

Chadwick was well-trained enough to know when he should leave his master's guests to find their way on their own. Jensen had earned a special status here in the almost two years he had courted Jared, one that entitled him to be given free rein around the house. And, more important, complete access to Jared's private rooms.

The only thing one could find everywhere in Jared's house, both the professional and private parts of it, was the scent of Iffly paper that Jared liked so much. Jensen had come to associate it with him so intimately that he could smell it in his dreams, even before his lover would appear. Sometimes, it was the sole indication that a particular dream had been all about his beautiful boy, the memory of the scent of benzoin and vanilla infusing the atmosphere.

Every time Jensen felt alone or depressed, at home, at work, or traveling, he was now in the habit to burn one of those little sheets of paper to remind him that he would see Jared again soon enough. When a specific article proved difficult to write, once again the beloved scent seemed to clear his thoughts and speed up his fountain pen.

He followed the fragrant trail to the most perfumed room and found Jared soaking into the huge, round bathtub. The hole dug in the ground and filled with the biggest enamel tub Jensen had ever seen allowed Jared's long silhouette to float horizontal in every direction. Jensen had joined him more than once and he had experienced how spacious the thing was when they fooled around, Jared sitting on his dick or lying to take it in each and every position known to mankind, without feeling cramped at all.

Today though, Jared didn't lie back, body only half-covered by the water in his seated position, and Jensen's heart thudded low and painful when he realized that Jared's left arm was enveloped in a plaster cast, set on the revolving silver plate anchored to the tub's edge that usually held wine or amuse-bouche to nibble on during the bath. The green overtones of the room temporarily dyed the probably white bandages in the same hues as the water sloshed gently and reflected itself in the mirrors hanging all around, moving colors lighting the bathroom alive.

Jared's head rested on a flowery cushion, damp ends of a few strands of hair surrounding his face like the askew halo of a naughty angel, smoothing the marks of his pain. His eyes were closed and his breathing slow, peaceful despite his injury.

Jensen was loath to disturb the moment. His jacket off, he sat down next to his lover and waited in contemplation of Jared's beautiful features for him to wake up on his own.

He didn't have time to get bored before Jared opened his eyes and greeted him with a lazy smile and a delighted whisper.

"You're here. I dreamed of you and you're here."

Jensen leaned down to kiss Jared many, many times, slow and sensual. Gentle, making sure to never hurt him more than he was already.

"What happened to you ?" he finally asked.

"Undress first, and come soak with me. I'll tell you all about it once I'm in your arms."

Jensen obeyed swiftly and slid into the water to hold Jared close. They kissed some more and traded caresses before Jensen asked for explanations again.

"Corin," Jared answered then, his eyes averted. "We got into an argument because he didn't respect our contract and he hurt me. Then I went to leave, he tried to hold me back, threw me against the wall. I couldn't catch myself and I landed on my arm with all my weight. And I heard the crack."

"I'm going to kill the bastard !" Jensen fumed.

"Don't be angry, and don't worry either. I quit even before he did this, and I punched him. He's not going to hurt me ever again."

Jared leaned sideways to kiss Jensen in his turn, cradling his injured arm against his chest, just above the water.

"Besides," he continued between kisses, "it's not all bad. Think about it ! I'm not going to be able to work for a while with the cast hampering me, so this way we'll see each other as much as we want. Isn't it great ?"

Jensen's right hand came up to tuck Jared's hair behind his ear and he stared at him, never satiated with the sight.

"The timing couldn't be worse, Jared. With the growing political unrest in Stellan, my editor wants me to leave as soon as possible to get exclusive interviews. I can't say no."

"Oh, I had imagined… never mind, I understand. They need the best out there, and nobody's better than you."

Jared put on a brave face, but he was clearly disturbed and disappointed by the news. Jensen felt just as disappointed, and the idea of leaving Jared in this condition, after he had been attacked by a client, didn't sit well with him at all. So maybe…

"There's another option. You could come with me."

"With you ? In Stellan ?"

"Yes ! Listen to me. As you said, you can't work, so nothing ties you here right now. If you come with me, not only will you get the opportunity to visit the most beautiful country in the world, but we'll be together, day and night, for at least two months."

Jensen's voice was as fervent as he could, as intense as he knew how to make it. He had to be persuasive, for the idea might be just as seductive as frightful to Jared, too far out of his known life and his usual constraints to feel safe. Too far from Jeff Morgan who, as terrible a man as he was, had been Jared's sun for so long that Jensen doubted he could easily break free from his orbit and still function, breathe and prosper.

"But… what about Licia ?" Jared stammered.

"Maybe we could take her with us ?"

He was not joking. Over the months, Jensen had found himself falling in love not only with his beautiful courtesan, but also with Felicia, the little orphaned girl Jared took such good care of and would have adopted already if only a judge had granted his plea. Even though she was the bastard daughter of a lorette and no one else had claimed her, no lawman so far had agreed to entrust Jared with her upbringing. Now four years old, almost five, Felicia lived with Liz, a nanny paid by Jared to take care of her only – the law didn't seem to take offense with Jared's money in this instance, as long as the state didn't have to foot the bill for her education any more than her basic survival. Jared often said he should have had the presence of mind to fill with his name the father's line of the birth certificate, but grief had left him broken after the tragic night, and all his later attempts had been rebuffed, possibly by Stuart's money and connections.

After a while, Jensen had taken to visit the little girl as often as he could, with or without Jared. She was mouthy and funny, a fiery redhead who Jared said was looking more and more like her mother, the whimsical and much missed miss Day. He sure wouldn't mind at all taking the kid with them on this trip.

"It's not fair to ask me to make such a big decision when I'm still loopy from the good drugs the doctor gave me."

"I don't see it that way. It's very fair to me if it makes you agree."

Jared laughed happily before he laid himself back against Jensen's torso. His chest rippled and Jensen couldn't take his eyes off of it, not for a million.

"Okay," Jared finally agreed, "I'll come with you on one condition : you shave that godawful moustache !"

Jensen burst into laughter. Jared had tried to get him back to a clean-shaven face for a while, saying it was sacrilegious to hide even a little bit Jensen's gorgeous lips, and it seemed he had found at last the decisive argument.

Two uninterrupted months with his lover versus a pitiful moustache. There was only one possible outcome to this duel.

Who cared that manly men were supposed to display facial hair, really ? Jared had always found him manly aplenty.

Misha knew something was up. First Jensen had come and dragged him to this lousy party hosted by a man neither of them found particularly interesting ; then he had seemed distracted, obviously looking for something or someone, surely the reason of their attendance here tonight.

Jensen didn't need to talk, his attitude alone displayed all the necessary warning that he was presently on a mission. After so many years of friendship and shared hours of work, Misha recognized the signs. By the end of the night, someone would have met the barrel of his friend's pistol, or died a slow and painful agony due to Jensen's deathly columnist's quill. Maybe even both.

The receiver of Jensen's hatred was soon revealed to Misha as they came into a salon. Jensen excused himself to their host and marched right to one man.

"Nemec," he called, interrupting an ongoing conversation between four gentlemen ; one of them, in a white and dashing uniform, turned to answer Jensen's address.

The guy only had time to show the beginning of a polite smile and the thick bandage over his nose half-hiding his black eye before Jensen slapped him with his glove.

Misha grinned, waiting for the drama to unfold. This damned social event had just become interesting ! It was a rare occasion when Jensen let his anger get the best of him, and an ever rarer one that he didn't confide in Misha. No problem, though, he'd get the whole story from his friend sooner or later.

The offended man's eyes widened in surprise at this aggression.

"What was that for ?" he asked, utterly flabbergasted.

"You know who I am, Nemec, and who my lover is. Now in case you're really wondering the motive of this challenge, yesterday you proved beyond any doubt that you're no honorable man by hurting for no reason someone I care about. I'm here to demand reparation in his name."

Misha straightened, all mirth forgotten, and came to stand by Jensen's side. His friend was unlikely to see reason if Jared was involved. Misha himself rather felt like teaching a good lesson to anyone who would harm the gentle giant Jensen was in love with.

"You're a fool, Ackles," Nemec protested. "He got what he deserved and he's a whore, nothing more. I'm not risking my life because of him."

So not the right argument to sway said man in love.

Jensen turned lecturer then. He slowed his cadence of speech to speak to Nemec the way he would with someone challenged by basic command of language.

"Listen carefully," he instructed, "because I know your own limitations make it difficult for you to understand this. Jared is a highly intelligent man, who offers his skills to those who can appreciate them. Someone who, despite his size, has never harmed anyone else, contrary to you. Not an impotent brute who needs to hurt others to prove their power. Now only a coward would refuse to show up tomorrow morning at the lake to settle the matter. Word will get out, Nemec, so choose wisely how you'd like to be remembered."

Intimidation tactic. Very good. Let your opponent know that he stood no chance.

Nemec's friends still hadn't said a word. The way they looked at him, though, telegraphed that they would be the ones talking around, and Misha could read this sudden awareness on Nemec's face. He couldn't not fight, or his reputation would be as good as dead, even before the journalist had time to write about him in his newspaper. But Ackles was known for his aim and his glorious military past as well as his sharp quill. Nemec would never get out of this unscathed, one way or the other, and he knew it.

By the time Misha and Jensen had met in the army, Nemec's father had already bought an officer's charge for his son, one that he had mostly used to show off his uniform in salons and at court, while Jensen had earned his medals fighting on battlefields or gaining intelligence about the enemy. The same qualities that made him a brilliant journalist – his sheer intelligence, the ability to see links between previously unmatched items or ideas, his effortless talent at making dedicated friends everywhere he went and having people talk to him – had been at play then. And when all else failed, Jensen was able to fall back on his good training, using his fists or his sniper's skills to get out of worrisome situations.

Nemec couldn't show off the same intelligence, nor any kind of real training or competence. Not even the devoted friends to shield him from harm or uphold his good name.

It was a shame, really, because Misha always acted as Jensen's second and this duel was going to be a real bore.

They went back to Jensen's, after a quick detour by Misha's home to tell his wife about their future encounter, and then another one to invite their friend Ty back with them to Jensen's house so he could be the other second in the forthcoming duel. They talked for a while, about anything but the situation, during the late supper served by Jensen's grumpy valet Wallace, who masked behind his annoyance at working so late his fears for his master's life. Before they rested for a few hours, they spent some time reading, or writing in Jensen's case, probably his letters to Jared and his family in case something bad happened to him in the morning.

Dawn was hardly on its way when they arrived at the lake.

Jensen might have prepared himself for any kind of outcome but there was no trace of apprehension in his outward demeanor as Misha walked by his side in the direction of the duel ground. He could only discern resolution and focus, as well as a great deal of confidence. Jensen was here to win, and he would. He had something to prove, Jared's safety to ensure. There was no place in his mind for failure.

Nemec made them wait close to half an hour before he arrived, disheveled and obviously distressed. Misha doubted he had slept at all, worrying too much about Jensen's reputation and the way it diminished to nothing the already low probability of his own survival.

His seconds, Gries and Harrington, were in no better shape, bleary-eyed and reeking of alcohol. Only Doctor Williams looked like he had slept the sleep of the just. He was an odd guy, well-known among duelers for his willingness to assist in such matters without ever taking side, which was why neither Nemec nor his seconds had refused his presence despite his public status as Jared's physician.

Jensen offered to the doctor his dueling pistols box to inspect. While Misha and Jon Gries prepared the pistols to fire one shot, Jensen and Nemec came to an agreement about the kind of duel they'd fight and its rules.

Up close, Nemec was shivering with fear and it got worse when Jensen refused to apologize, sealing once and for all the fact that the duel would take place.

The antagonists announced their decision for a signal duel before they both walked fifteen steps apart. Then they turned around and faced each other with their pistols cocked, barrel to the ground.

"Gentlemen," Adam Harrington said in a stentorian voice, "remember that you're honor-bound to shoot upon the third clap of my hands, and that you're not to lift your pistol up before the first clap, nor to fire before the third."

Harrington took a step back to withdraw from the line of fire. He raised his hands to clap for the first time. In reply, Jensen and Nemec raised their arms to aim in the general direction of their opponent.

Three seconds later, on the second clap, both men adjusted their aim.

Three more seconds, and the last clap was drowned in the sound of the pistols firing at the same time.

Slowly, Jensen lowered his arm and Misha couldn't breathe again before he saw the smile spreading on his friend's face. Only then did he turn to Nemec and see the red stain on the officer's left biceps, growing bigger by the second, so shocking in comparison to the deathly pallor of his face.

Jared was avenged.

They left for Stellan five days after Jensen had come up with the crazy idea of taking Jared along on his trip.

As a man of his word, Jensen arrived at Jared's ready to leave for their long voyage and with a face smooth as a baby's bottom. Jared thanked him profusely for the loss of the bothersome moustache, in a manner only he was allowed to use, and Jensen never had to complain about his partial and momentary disability.

Jared's mouth was just as agile as his fingers, after all, and he loved the taste of his man.

Because of the ebullient social climate disturbing some of the Stellian provinces they were going to travel through, they had decided in the end not to bring Felicia with them. Jensen didn't believe the danger was real – he wouldn't have invited Jared in the first place if he did – but he couldn't promise that things wouldn't heat up at some point and there was no sense in risking the little girl's safety when she could just stay home. Jared's trust in Liz was complete and he had made sure that his friends in the capital would visit Licia as much as possible, all those people, mostly lorettes, who had joined Jared in her care since her mother's death. He himself planned to send her one postal card or letter a day. At the very least. He was going to miss her awfully.

Jensen had managed to push back the date of his departure by invoking other articles he needed to finish before he could leave. Jared was pretty sure it wasn't a lie but that Jensen had made it last, motivated by the need to make sure Jared wouldn't hurt too much during their travel.

This was a work-related expedition, first and foremost, which meant of course that Misha tagged along, but he managed to be very discreet every time he felt the lovers craved intimacy ; when he wasn't fast enough to leave, Jared did his best to convince him to follow Jensen's example and shave the moustache he was so very proud of, thin and swirly at the end, ensuring Misha's prompt disappearance.

Jensen and Jared shared a private compartment and that part of the trip went smoothly enough. The train prevented Jared from being jostled too much every which way as he spent a lot of time lying down or half-reclining, keeping his arm secure against himself.

It was admittedly far better than the carriages, even kept at a slow pace to avoid hurting Jared's broken arm, that took them from the railway stations to their hotels and then, whenever Jensen felt Jared wouldn't compromise his chances for a frank talk, to the houses of the men he wanted to interview. He aimed to meet representatives of the whole country's political scene, ranging from separatists to royalists going through republicans but, with a reputation preceding him, Jared got to see a lot more beautiful castles and villas than obscure one-room apartments where anarchists fomented their coups. He couldn't even try to feel bad about it.

Jared should have traveled a lot with his line of work. He could have, if he hadn't specialized in short-term agreements because he never wanted to be too far from his kid for a long time. Most of his colleagues had been all over the continent, and all of them had seen Stellan. But this was a first for Jared, a delightful voyage of discovery in what was, Jensen assured, the most beautiful country of the world. Jensen had been everywhere and even though he admitted that maybe his memories of his youth – of his first lover – added a special color to his appreciation, he still considered Stellan the perfect mix of pleasant countryside, gorgeous cities, lively people and sing-song language.

Under his tutelage, Jared learned to see it all.

It was kind of amazing just how free the simple act of traveling with Jensen made him feel. Loved too, and not smothered, like his mother did when he was a kid, or kept on a leash, a sensation Jeff excelled at. And it was all in spite of he and Jensen spending pretty much every hour of the day together.

A glimpse of what his life could have looked like, had Jared never met Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

There would be hell to pay upon his return for daring to leave without asking for permission. A permission Jared knew would never have been offered. Jensen didn't realize that any more than he suspected Jared's decision to leave without Licia had as much to do with the potential danger as his wish for a lot of alone time with his lover.

And a lot of time he got.

Time to visit old, venerable churches bursting with multicolored art that filled Jared with joy and hope. Time to stroll through sunny alleys and wander into sweet gardens to get a feel of the land. Even more time to make love with Jensen, when and where and how they chose to, letting Jensen take care of him like newlyweds, and Jensen acknowledging this fact by calling the trip their honeymoon.

"Jensen…"

Jensen valiantly resisted the husky tones of Jared's voice and kept his eyes on the paper.

"Come to bed," Jared insisted, "I'm feeling abandoned."

"Soon, love. I need to finish this to send it tomorrow morning with the earliest mail coach."

But Jared was not to be deterred so easily.

"Sorry to be crass, but what you need to do is me. Here I am, naked and offered, entirely at your disposal, and it took only three weeks for you to stop watching me."

Jensen fell for it. He turned around.

"You know that's not true. I'm not watching because I won't be able to get back to work if I do."

"Then prove it. Really look at me and give in. You know you want to. I'll help tomorrow morning with your article, I swear I'll be good. But right now, I need you in me. Jensen, come here and love me."

And he did. He did and he couldn't say he felt bad about it, not past the first touch of his lips on Jared's anyway. Not with his hands reveling in the velvety feel of his lover's skin thanks to the smooth lotion he loved to help spread on Jared's body every day after his bath, sacred moment that led more often than not to making love.

He didn't mind falling asleep either, and not wakening before Jared roused him at dawn to help him work. They had done this a few times already, Jensen bouncing ideas, Jared commenting on them, offering tentative advice, as if sure he would be rebuked, but trying again when Jensen next looked for his input.

"I asked the count about that," Jared supplied to one of Jensen's enquiries, "and he said he and his friends have no intention to vote. I took it to mean they will not take position before there's a strong indication of the province's leaning."

Jensen knew for a fact that Jared was not sleeping with any of their hosts along the way, work far from his mind on their romantic trip. But using his charm was just as natural to him as breathing and, whatever the country, men needed to please and seduce him. They would reveal to him without thinking details they might try to hide from Jensen. Not for the first time, Jared had helped further Jensen's understanding of the situation by sharing comments he had either overheard or solicited. He helped not only by bringing new evidence to his investigation, but by discussing their different views and making Jensen's articles better when he proofread them.

This was an unexpected pleasure, to share with the man he loved the job he loved almost as much, to encourage him to trust his own instincts and his knowledge of people, to accept that he had more to offer to the world than his admittedly incredible body.

"My dear," the old gentleman welcomed Jared as he took his hand to kiss it, "my wife and I are overjoyed you could join us."

The much younger wife didn't really seem that happy, not until her eyes landed and lingered on Jensen anyway. She blushed hotly when the journalist's lips brushed her hand in greeting, ignoring Jared's glare as well as her husband's.

Her lack of interest for the famous courtesan gracing her house with his attendance didn't change the fact that Jared was the king of the reception, feted by all the guests and followed around by a court of eager men all evening long.

To be honest, it had been that way pretty much everywhere they had stopped long enough to mingle with the elegant society, and Jared tried very hard not to let it go to his head. His first travel outside of his own country passed for the prime social event of the season, an occurrence so unusual that everyone wanted to meet him and be able to brag about the day the infamous Jared Padalecki had been their invitee.

Jensen didn't seem annoyed by the attention focused on Jared. He didn't lack for it either, thanks to his own reputation, not to mention his unexpected gorgeousness that often left people speechless, especially those who had imagined the journalist as some bearded and paunchy old fogey. Jared had had to make clear more than once, and reciprocally, that they were together and unavailable for anyone else.

Aside from the constant ego boost and the delightful travel, Jared felt so pleased with himself that Jensen thought he had helped his investigation tremendously and improved the overall quality of his articles. He certainly didn't need this justification to remain loyal to his lover. Not one second did he suffer any regret for the lost opportunities and all the clients he declined. He could have worked all along and made a lot of money to appease Jeff, but he just couldn't disappoint Jensen. And he definitely didn't want him to enjoy the offers he got every time Jared let him out of his sight, and on a few occasions, right in front of him. He was getting a bit tired of the universal surprise at seeing a courtesan being faithful to his lover, or who they thought to be his client wanting no one else than Jared.

Was it so difficult to see they were in love ? So unimaginable that a courtesan might have feelings and integrity, or that he be loved and cherished ?

Jared did his best not to focus on those depressing thoughts, especially not during lively receptions, the kind he enjoyed so much : informal, both at the buffet and during the ball, conversations open and animated, often even amusing when meaning got lost in translation.

Once again tonight, Jared danced with a lot of people – even their hostess, who kept on questioning Jared about Jensen – and then always came back to Jensen to share a few steps around the room in his lover's arms. He knew people loved to see them together.

"Such an attractive couple," Jared had heard again and again.

He could see the admiration in everyone's eyes, the same kind of appreciation found in the article of the local newspaper Jensen had read to him the previous day.

_"Famous and beautiful courtesan Jared Padalecki is traveling through our great province with his friend, award-winning journalist Jensen Ackles. The lovely couple has been seen attending various events, where their beauty and love have charmed everyone. It is unclear whether this is a well-deserved vacation for them both or if work was their primary motivation, as the adorable Mr. Padalecki declared they are enjoying very much their leisure trip and all the signs of friendship they keep receiving along the way, while at the same time Mr. Ackles' column in the Gazette is still filled regularly with enthusiastic words describing the beauties of Stellan. We will make sure to share with you soon the exclusive interview the luscious Mr. Padalecki granted us when we met."_

Jared's sense of humor had been tickled by the gross exaggeration. In place of an interview, Jensen and he had stumbled upon this rabid young man asking ten questions a second and hardly listening to their answers. As for Jensen's own articles, they sure talked about the beauties of Stellan, but also many other controversial facts and political ideas agitating the country's minds and neglected by this kind of press.

In spite of the rookie journalist's bafflement, they had managed so far to mix pretty evenly leisure and work. Jensen's guilty pleasure was opera, or rather beautiful, powerful singing voices. Jared might be less enthusiastic about it, but he only saw there the opportunity to give back to his lover a little bit of those wonderful moments and love he had been showered with during their honeymoon. They found lots of opportunities on their way to attend small, private performances given in castles for a limited audience, but also bigger, trendier concerts in all the cities they traveled through. Needless to say, it was more than amusing to observe his Jensen, so tough and uncompromising in front of political leaders, turning into a self-conscious fan in front of renowned singers who tripped over themselves for the chance of getting an impromptu interview with a respected journalist who looked like a god amongst men.

After they attended the concert of the year at the Stellian national opera, a smirking Misha brought them another kind of article. The text was minimal this time, the main attraction of the page being the caricature showing them both at the musical event. Jared laughed hard and long at the sight.

Standing by Jensen's side, Jared was twice taller than everyone else in the drawing, and although colors were lost on the black and white sketch, his sense of fashion was still there, clothes so tight that his muscles and a particular manly bulge were quite obscenely defined. His smile took half of his deformed face, showing big white teeth this side of predatory, only ever stopped from spilling over the upper half of the face by his sharp nose, made longer and pointier than usual, and his huge forehead. The caricaturist surely didn't miss his overly elongated eyes, nor his moles. Despite the smile, one of the cartoon Jared's hands was busy rubbing his ass, indicating a slight hurt in the part of his anatomy he was known to make a living with. The artist also managed to render Jensen angelic-looking features while making him at the same time very smug at being the one to put the hurt there – another bulge, on Jensen this time, left no question about it – when the army of crying men trailing behind them was clearly getting none from the courtesan.

The fantastic drawing made Jensen smugger for real, and amorous in such arousing ways that Jared planned to have it enlarged and framed at home right above his bed.

"They don't know half of what I do about your bulge," Jensen pointed out, his face over Jared's dick still sheathed in his tightest underwear.

"Let me undress, Jensen, please," he begged, more than ready for release.

"Not yet, love."

Tiny licks of Jensen's tongue on his uncovered slit made Jared's dick impossibly harder, the fabric unable to stretch and accommodate him, his constricted flesh taking Jared to new heights of pleasure with each stroke of Jensen's hand.

It went on as Jensen pushed into him from behind, through the underwear's so practical opening. Jared keened, the clothing sheath acting as a cock ring and massaging him at the same time with each of Jensen's strokes.

He was almost sobbing by the time Jensen deemed the experience conclusive and released, one by one, the knots holding Jared together. The immediate discharge was earth-shattering, right in time with his lover.

Jared found the caricaturist the next day and bought the original sketch for a lot of money.

Jared's arm was now perfectly healed, cast off thanks to a doctor highly recommended by one of their hosts, and there was no contraindication this time for the travel back home to use mostly carriages. It was a much more pleasant way to admire the beautiful countryside ; more romantic too, nestled against Jensen, as if the world existed only for the two of them and no one could ever infiltrate their universe.

Misha had given up on them, tired of feeling like a third wheel on somebody's honeymoon. He had taken to travel in the second carriage with Chadwick and Wallace, claiming that their bickering was far more entertaining than the lovey-dovey conversations Jensen and Jared shared to spite him. It was just as well, as Jared felt so happy he feared at times being unable to keep his distance in public, to stop offering sexual treats to Jensen, blow jobs or more adventurous situations.

The end of their honeymoon fast approaching, Jared tried to cram the time and his memory with the most loving moments he could create. The idea that soon he wouldn't fall asleep in Jensen's arms and wake up next to him every day left him bereft and he avoided it at all costs.

In the meanwhile, Jensen kept taking care of him in ways Jared could never have imagined before.

"We have to exercise your arm every day," he said as he moved Jared's previously hurt limb, slowly but with a firm hand and clear purpose. "Doc Williams explained it all to me. The goal is to make sure the pronosupination mobility is still complete."

"The prono what ?"

"Pronosupination. The movement you make when you turn a key in a lock. And also to ensure your elbow can extend entirely and without pain after being stuck in this bent position for two months. I'll be your nurse for as long as you need it."

Jared considered him with a leer.

"You're so much sexier than the ones who help me occasionally when needed."

He saw the question in Jensen's eyes and evaded immediately.

"Maybe I could have a sexy uniform designed for you," he suggested, "something shimmery and mostly transparent. Were we at home, I just know who I'd ask."

"I guess instead you'll have to wear your own sexiest underwear during each session, to make up for my plain clothes."

Jensen's hands were never more loving and tender than when they took care of Jared's weaker forearm. Jared used the opportunity of each exercising session to admire his lover's face, the dedication written on it and the love it revealed.

If this was what marriage looked like for normal people, then Jared wished more than ever that he could have devoted his life to Jensen.

And then they were back at Jared's. After two more days spent holed up together at his place to recover from the trip, Jared had to deal with a painful and unexpected feeling of abandonment when Jensen left, breakfast over, to go back to his own house and then work. He knew it was the way it had to be, real life reasserting its priorities, the need to work and pay their dues to society.

Still, it would take time to accept again the necessities of an adult and sometimes harsh life compared to the dream Jared had lived in for three blessed months, loved and treasured by his lover, always put in the first place instead of being the one taking care of someone else's desires.

Jared washed himself, then he dressed. He paid bills and read his letters. He procrastinated as long as possible. When he couldn't find any other good excuse to postpone the moment of truth, he sat down at his desk and wrote to his master to let him know he was back.

Time to face the consequences of his show of independence.

It was just a mere hour before Jeff responded to Jared's message by showing up in person at his door. In an attempt to make clear he was not afraid, Jared was stupid enough to wait for him near the entrance, a few feet behind Chadwick.

He knew he looked good, rested and happy, and it probably infuriated Jeff all the more. The pimp's furious expression said everything Jared needed to know about his state of mind. The four consecutive slaps in his face drove the point home. And then Jared found himself hastily disrobed, the light and white muslin shirt and trousers he always wore inside to wait for special visitors torn apart by Jeff's anger.

They were still in the hallway, Chadwick so surprised that he hadn't even closed the door yet.

"Master Morgan…" the valet tried to reason with Jeff when more swats hit Jared.

The door closed at last, just in time for Jeff to finish baring him, throwing away his ripped underwear.

"Shut up and stand still, or you will suffer the same punishment."

Chadwick was brave but he was not stupid. He did as he was told, and witnessed all of Jared's humiliation. For some reason, his presence also made Jared feel oddly protected.

Satisfied with the valet's attitude, Jeff turned back to Jared. He was far from pacified by his lack of response but Jared didn't want to risk making it worse by fighting the correction he had known would be coming since he had left with Jensen. You didn't rebel against Jeff Morgan's authority without suffering the consequences.

Jared let Jeff position him on all fours as he wished, on the beautiful but very uncomfortable little couch of the hallway, ass in the air.

The first swat landed immediately after, raw and savage. Jeff had brought his favorite toy with him, a powerful modified martinet whose whips were larger and thicker than the usual strands, and also less flexible. It left no long-lasting mark on the skin but both the immediate and residual pain lasted twice as long. Unless it was Jeff's rage Jared felt so keenly.

With each new swat, Jared fought the need to hide his abused ass under his hands, knowing perfectly well that it would only lead to a double spanking, possibly some dick and balls slapping, and his hands being tied. Jared vividly remembered the last time it happened, restrained for four days at Jeff's total mercy. He did not wish to repeat the experience.

So he endured, trying to predict where the next whack would land, focusing on the fiery burn extending over his skin, imagining the redness spreading over his ass cheeks and thighs. He ignored his own whimpers to listen to Jeff's heavy grunting, so similar to the sounds he made while fucking Jared. Jeff had never kept secret how much seeing his slave in pain turned him on.

As usual, the moment came when Jeff felt unsatisfied with the lack of direct touch and he abandoned the martinet to hit with his bare hands, relishing contact and Jared's little-boy-like humiliation. They had enacted this kind of scenario often enough, playing for clients who enjoyed watching Jared's giant silhouette downgraded to powerless kid status. Jared knew how much pleasure his master took with this part especially, which explained why Jeff had promoted and encouraged these encounters time and time again.

Jared also knew the beating would soon be over when Jeff got his dick out and began to jerk off, spreading pre-come on himself to prepare for the penetration about to occur. A small part of Jared cried in outrage at the idea of letting someone else than Jensen take him but he quashed it ruthlessly. He had been filled so many times in his life, by so many people, and he was nothing if not Jeff's slave. He couldn't afford to authorize those kind of seditious thoughts to take root in his mind. He belonged to Jeff first, and then to all the men on this planet with the means to buy him. Jensen could only own his heart.

The inner ache took over the surface one, Jeff made sure of it as he forced his way inside Jared. There would be more than one reason why Jared couldn't sit on his ass for a few days after this session. It was simultaneously frantic and laborious, all the things that Jeff loved about a good fuck, his pleasure mixed with Jared's pain. The most humiliating part was to be unable to block off his own reaction to the endless titillation of his prostate, to feel his own cock rising up fast and hard, drooling over the couch and Jeff's possessive hand.

It was also lengthy and noisy. Even Jeff's release felt overlong, too copious, Jared's skin and sense of smell oversensitive after he had come too.

Jared was ready to go lie down in his bedroom to lick his wounds in private but it was not to happen right now.

"Your turn," Jeff commanded as he stood back, indicating Jared's ass to Chadwick with a regal hand.

"What ?"

Chadwick was usually quick and smart, but his blank face showed his inability to draw the logical conclusion in this instance.

"Your turn to fuck him," Jeff clarified.

"Mr. Padalecki is my employer, sir. I respect him, and only obey his orders."

"Wrong, mousey boy. You know what I am to your boss, therefore you know I'm the one giving the orders. So what do you prefer ? Getting off by fucking this pretty hole, or looking for a new job as soon as tonight ?"

Morgan was right on this account. The very livery worn by Chadwick had tiny cocks and little pentagrams embroidered on it and it was a joke gift from Jared's master to remind him constantly of his being close by. Jared had even wondered for a long while how much of what happened in his home was reported straight away to Morgan by his faithful valet.

Experience had proved Chadwick to be as silent as a closed tomb. He was discreet and efficient, impossible to ruffle and shame, and Jared had learned to count on him at every moment of the day. His valet was going nowhere if he could help it.

"Go on, Chadwick," Jared encouraged him. "You have a family, you can't afford to lose this job, and I don't want to lose you. So go on, and don't worry."

"Very well, sir."

Chadwick bent over Jared's back and got his cock out of his pants to slide into Jared in one single long thrust that had Jared swallowing a surprised cry. Chadwick's dick was not small, and it was plenty hard, which meant that the valet had enjoyed the view of his boss' nakedness long before Jeff's order to fuck him. It was also clear that he was no stranger to fucking males by the care he took of Jared, one of his hands coming around to jerk Jared off, his thumb playing with Jared's slit, while he kept on pounding his ass and titillating his prostate.

It was only because he had already come under Jeff's ministrations that Jared didn't achieve orgasm. But it was a close thing when he felt Chadwick come deep inside of him with a few grunts of pleasure. When the valet was ordered by Jeff to lick all the come drooling out of Jared's hole, he couldn't hold it off any longer after a few thorough and enthusiastic swipes of Chad's tongue over his rim.

The next order was to lick Jared's entire body of his own come, just for the sake of it, to make sure that Jared had been entirely offered to his closest servant, who had seen him naked more than once but shouldn't have ever gained the privilege to touch him, not in such intimate and humiliating ways.

Because Jeff knew too well each of Jared's weak spots, Chad played with his nipples for a while before his balls and cock received the same attention. Then Jared got a spanking with a rolled-up journal – Jensen's Gazette, of course, Jeff had come prepared – both from his master and his valet, before he was made to suck Chadwick's dick while Jeff took him again from behind.

It was nothing Jared hadn't done already many times in his life as a prostitute, and he felt he was getting off lightly.

He was wrong.

As a good strategist, Jeff had kept the worse for the end. He announced the next weekend of fun while he was re-dressing, and Jared, kneeling naked at his master's feet, knew he wouldn't be spared in any way this time.

There were twelve of them today. Rarely did Jeff gather more than six or seven _friends_ for his weekends of fun, to make sure Jared was no more than roughed up a bit, well-used and aching but not torn apart. Today, the rules were utterly different from the very beginning.

Jeff brought Jared, naked and bound, to the open space prepared for him behind the manor, humiliation multiplied by this display, more public than the usual wandering naked around the house at Jeff's friends' disposal for the duration of the weekend. Jared's mouth was forced open and kept that way by a special leather gag pierced by a big hole allowing for a cock to fuck him as deep and fast as wished by all the lucky guys selected to play with him for the next three days. His ass was already dripping with lube, and his cock and balls tied with a tight ring to block any possibility of coming before Jeff's permission.

Two valets chained him to the wooden crossbar built over the lawn while the guests watched him avidly, probably imagining what kind of toy they would experiment with on him this time as they sipped their port wine in the still chilly, late-morning sun. Jared missed more than ever the delightful Stellian weather as shivers took him and never let go.

"My friends," Jeff announced when he was satisfied with Jared's wrists and ankles hopelessly bound, widely spread to offer complete access to Jared, "all of you have come here many times in the past, to give our whore Jared the deviant pleasures he craves so much. As you can already see, I've decided to spice up this particular weekend a bit. Indeed, our Jared has been very naughty and needs to be taught a lesson he won't ever forget. I'm sure he and I can count on you all to show him he's nothing more than the sum of his holes to be fucked."

Jared closed his eyes as most men nodded in time with Jeff's speech.

"You are all going to take a turn on him to begin with, to stave off your thirst, so to speak. You're going to fuck him hard and fast, and shoot him full of your come, to remind him of what he really likes. Then we're all going to take pleasure in his pain. The valets have installed on the nearby tables all kinds of whips and martinets, as well as more devilish instruments, like urethral sounds, nipple clamps and colossal dildos. Any fantasy is welcome during this weekend, and you can have a go at the boy as many times as you wish. This is an all-you-can-eat buffet, with the only caveat that we do not want to break our beautiful toy. Suffering is good, but we want to be able to use him again and again in the future, right ? Now let this party begin !"

Something had softened deep inside Jared during the three months spent with Jensen. A part of him that watched with horror the one man he really hated in this assembly – Lord Fuller, first prosecutor of the Crown – stand up and come to him with his constant predatory grin. The guy loved to see Jared tied and powerless, unable to prevent the torments poured on him, the hard yanking of his nipples, the long strokes on his cock and balls to arouse him as much as possible in the constraint of the ring, the fast fucking session, the rhythm of which was brought about by dirty words and humiliating suggestions.

"You love that, don't you, my little bitch ? You wish you had my dick up your ass at all times, my come leaking of you as your only lube…"

Jeff knew well how much Jared despised Fuller and it was no surprise that he had arranged to have him take Jared first. Nor was it unexpected that, despite his own rules, Jeff let the guy play already with one of the sounds as another man had taken his place behind Jared to fuck him.

Any semblance of order disappeared after that, the men pressing themselves around Jared to take their turn and to touch him, to beat or bite him, as they waited to fuck.

Hours passed that way, Jared unchained from his crossbar only to be led a few feet away to stand in a portable tub and be washed publicly by five valets who earned the right to fuck him too for their efforts. Never was Jared untied or left alone during the weekend. Sleep was forbidden ; at all times, someone was ready to play with his body, for sex, or torture, or both. Everything ached, but he could hardly let the moans out when his mouth was still constantly forced open by dicks or dildos being pushed between the metal hooks of the gag keeping his jaws apart, right to the abused depth of his throat.

He thought at times he would rebel, break the bond of his wrists attached to the collar around his neck, but then a man slid inside him and fucked him the way he deserved as a whore, let him taste his future with the spear of his dick, and Jared retracted a bit more inside himself.

He let the men take what they wanted from him, and he enjoyed it probably, judging by the way his throbbing cock sought release in Jeff's hands the second it was liberated from its ring.

In the end, he probably came just as much as his clients. He was a whore, no more evidence needed.

Three days since Jeff brought him back home, and Jared was still a whimpering mass of bruises and welts which, even though they weren't deep enough to scar, still hurt like a bitch. Dr. Williams had come and done all he could, leaving behind the same prescription Jared was sadly quite used to. Most of the healing could be achieved with time and rest, and with the help of the ointment to apply as many times a day as possible on Jared's damaged skin.

Jared generally resorted to the help of a trained nurse after a weekend of fun, for all those places he couldn't reach, or to avoid hurting himself even more. But after what had recently occurred, Chadwick had argued there was no need to disturb someone else for a task he could fulfill. Jared knew better than losing energy he didn't have at the moment trying to change Chadwick's mind.

The valet applied the thick and greasy cream over Jared's rim without a twitch on his face. No pleasure or disgust, it was as though Chadwick was performing any menial and well-known task of his day job that wasn't particularly entertaining, but neither did it seem repulsive. Jared knew his valet had been in the army and, as such, had seen far worse in the time he had served as an orderly.

"Nothing much fazes you, Chadwick, does it ?" Jared asked in his still very rough voice.

"I'm a valet, sir, I need to be ready and efficient at all times. I aim to satisfy my employer, in whatever capacity, to the best of my abilities."

Jared knew Chadwick too well to miss the ghost of a smile on his servant's face.

"Then I hope you get to enjoy yourself a little bit when you go about your work."

"The job does have its perks, sir."

Cheeky bastard, Jared thought. But he didn't want his unruly life to complicate those of the people around him, especially someone as faithful as Chadwick.

"Let's hope none of those perks will get you into trouble with your wife."

"Don't worry, sir. What Sophia doesn't know cannot hurt her."

"So… nothing has changed between us either ?"

"Why should it ? This was nothing more than what you do for your job, was it ? We're all good, sir, don't worry."

All good, Jared repeated again and again in his mind, derision growing with each new iteration. If only. How could you feel all good after giving yourself willingly to the sexual tortures and fantasies of about fifteen men at the same time ? How could you do that and still feel worthy of your valet's respect ?

Worthy of the love of a man ?

Chadwick partly answered his unvoiced question. After wiping his hands, he fetched the wicker basket he had left at the entrance of the room when he came in and brought it next to Jared.

"It occurred to me you might have missed this, what with us being abroad and all," he suggested, taking what appeared to be a copy of the Gazette out of the basket filled to the brim with more copies. "Sophia bought these papers."

This one dated two days before their return and Jared remembered quite well the topic of Jensen's offering for the day, an epilogue to their Stellian dream summing up their findings, but also all those things they had enjoyed and wanted to recommend to potential voyagers.

He opened the Gazette anyway to find Jensen's finished article and did a double take. Not only Jensen's it seemed, but Jared's too, for his name appeared very distinctly right after his lover's, declaring him the author of the article just as much as Jensen.

It turned out that each and every one of the Stellian articles were written under both their names.

As he healed slowly, hidden in his private bedroom, Jared had hoped he wouldn't see Jeff for a long while. His master wouldn't touch him right now, not before he was back on his feet and ready to work. He was of no use to him in this state, so chances were good that the man would stay away.

But Jeff had decided, it seemed, to keep a vigilant eye on Jared.

"Rest assured you won't be shirking your duty again anytime soon !" Jeff had menaced, looming over Jared's bed before he sat down next to him. "I tolerated your boyfriend for a long time because you managed to work him into your life smoothly enough that I didn't see any change in your job. Now you try and disappear once more like you just did, to play journalist with your sissy boyfriend or any other stupid scheme, and I won't be so understanding. Is that clear ?"

Jared nodded faintly. He certainly didn't comment on the sissy remark ; either Jeff was vastly misinformed or he was trying to get a rise out of Jared by insulting his lover. No need to mention that Jeff was wary of Jensen's tribune and what it could do to his reputation, which explained why he had never tried really hard to separate them.

They were both at a status quo. Jared didn't want Jeff to release his blackmail material on him anymore than Jeff wanted to do it, knowing well that he would then lose the leverage making Jared his slave and his biggest source of income. But Jeff knew many ways to subdue Jared before it came to that.

Jared regretted being naked right now, incapable of standing the so very light scratching of a nightshirt on his over-sensitive skin, for he felt the need of even the slightest armor to protect him from his master's raw power.

"You're always at your most beautiful then, naked and offered for everyone's consumption," Morgan said as his hand traveled Jared's body, clearly remembering the swats and hits responsible for each mark and leaving a shivering mess behind as no part of Jared didn't hurt.

He could find no position to relieve the whole of his hurts to begin with, and Jeff pressing him into the mattress by putting pressure onto his back woke up each and every little bit of pain.

"But I think," his master continued, "that among all the images etched in my mind after each weekend, my favorite is the one of a dozen guys beating off over your face at the same time, to paint it white and make you as dirty outside as you are inside. It's gonna be a huge hit for a very long time. For me and for our friends."

Jeff's hand spread Jared's ass cheeks to look at his torn hole, to push a finger inside even though Jared's whimpers turned into pitiful cries of pain.

"What about you, Jared ? Do you see yourself pleasuring several guys at a time when your pretty lover is making love to you ? Do you tell him everything you're capable of when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear ? Does he know that hundreds of men had you, once or many, many more times ? Does he realize that you'll have to take on more clients to make up for the loss of your time, giving up to one man for free what you've sworn to sell for the rest of your life so that you can pay your debt to me ?"

Jared was too weak to fight against the mind games Jeff loved so much, and he hated to see him in his private bedroom, especially right now. He shut up and waited for his master to leave. Any protest would just encourage him to become rougher anyway.

Finally alone, the door had just closed when Jared turned his head to the other side, towards the window oriented in the direction of his lover's house.

"Jensen doesn't care about all that," he murmured.

Jared's second wish was that Jensen would be too busy after three months out of town to visit him before he was back on his feet and able to hide the worst of his punishment. Even craving his lover's presence, he refused to let Jensen feel responsible for the fallout of their delicious trip. Their honeymoon.

It didn't work any better than the first wish.

Their need for each other was still too powerful after sharing all their time for so long. Jensen appeared at Jared's not long after Morgan's departure. At least, Jared congratulated himself, the two men hadn't crossed paths. This situation would have been awkward, if not downright dangerous. Jensen hated Morgan just as much as Morgan hated him. On the four occasions the three of them had found themselves in the same room at soirées, the temperature had dropped below zero, freezing everything and everyone around in the process. Both men were ready to jump at each other's throat at the slightest provocation and only Jared's tactful mediation had permitted a fragile peace.

He knew Jensen wanted him free of his pimp, that he was beyond curious of the reasons why Jared let him govern his life despite all the money he made. That he had been very patient so far and hadn't asked too many questions about their ties.

This kind of incident would only make him more curious as well as even more furious with Morgan.

"Jared," Jensen asked softly while his eyes took in Jared's reddened ass and multicolored bruises, "what happened ?"

"Nothing you can't make me forget, love."

"Does it hurt a lot ?" Jensen wondered after kissing Jared's hands as one of his very few hurt-free zones.

Jeff's looming threats were already receding in the back of Jared's mind, trampled over by Jensen's loving presence.

"Not that much now that you're here to distract me. It's good to see you."

Jensen kissed him again, then he walked around the bed to lie in the free space next to Jared, taking his other hand for more kisses.

"Morgan, right ? Morgan did this to you, because you came with me and didn't work during that time."

There was nothing to do but nod silently.

"I'm sorry, Jared. I never thought… I feel horrible for putting you in this situation. I thought I was giving you a chance to be happy far from everything, including that man, and I was only making it worse."

"You made me _so_ happy, don't ever question that fact. The rest is my own fault, I should have told him what I was planning to do, instead of letting my absence speak for me."

"You kept silent because you feared he wouldn't let you go, I guess ?"

Jared nodded again.

"I never really asked why you're still working for him, I wanted to respect your privacy, but I can't keep quiet anymore. Why do you do this to yourself, Jared ? What does he have on you to force your cooperation ? You're bigger than him, with a little training you could learn to knock him on his ass if he ever tried to hit you, so why do you take it without ever fighting back ?"

Only silence responded.

"Jared, I'm not judging you, you know that ? I just want to understand, and maybe help you. It breaks my heart to see you suffering so much…"

"Please, love, I don't want to talk about it," Jared pleaded.

There were so many reasons to keep his secrets. The fear of talking too much and seeing disgust in Jensen's eyes with every detail of his screwed-up past. The very real possibility of risking more of Jeff's wrath if the man came to learn about Jared's confession. Other reasons Jared didn't even want to think about right now, as if a simple thought would let Jensen read it all on his face.

"Tell me something," he evaded, "anything. Your job, maybe. Is your boss satisfied with our articles ? Was Misha happy to see his wife again ?"

Anything was better than talking about the past.

For his first appointment back at work, Jared had decided on a friend who wouldn't ask for much stamina-wise.

"I'm so happy to see you back on your feet, baby," Aliénor welcomed Jared. "I've been worried sick about you. Only Jensen managed to comfort me with good news two days ago."

"I'm well, Aliénor, just a bit of the flu, don't you worry your pretty head anymore."

Jared leaned down to kiss her cheek, then he put her hand on his arm to accompany her to the regency living room where tea was waiting for them.

"I want you to tell me all about your trip. Stellan, that's so romantic ! I bet you and Jensen couldn't stop making love all along the way, am I right ?"

"Come on, Aliénor, you know I never kiss and tell."

The old lady laughed delightedly.

"Not about your clients, I know, but this is different. You two boys are so in love, it makes my old heart sing and I miss my Albert like crazy when I watch you. Especially knowing how protective Jensen turned out to be. The whole capital couldn't stop talking about the duel for days on end, and no one has seen Nemec's face since then. I hear his father the General sent him abroad with his company to get rid of the walking humiliation."

Jared felt himself gaping at Aliénor, wrenched utterly out of his depth by the unexpected news.

"What duel ? What are you talking about ?"

"He didn't tell you ? My, your Jensen is a man right after my heart ! I swear if he wasn't yours…"

"Aliénor, please."

"Alright, darling. A few days before you left for Stellan, Jensen challenged Nemec to a duel, demanding reparation for what had been done to you. Nemec lost, of course. The important point, though, is that now everyone in the capital knows Jensen is your champion. No one will ever dare to hurt you again, for fear of meeting with Jensen's pistol or earning himself a scathing article in his Gazette. You're protected far more effectively now than you ever were by this horrible Morgan character. You know how much I hate that man."

Jared let a small smile graze his face as he drank a sip of tea.

"Now tell me about Stellan," Aliénor insisted. "What did you see ? Who have you met ?"

Their discussion lasted far longer than the work Jared had come to do and it was pure luck that nowadays Aliénor was more about cuddles than real sex as Jared was still reeling from the news about Jensen fighting a duel for him.

His heart had stopped at first, the retrospective fear of losing Jensen for such a wrong reason. He was now stuck on incredulity, the impossibility of understanding why such a man as Jensen loved him so much that he would do something so dangerous to show everyone what it cost to harm Jared.

What had he done to deserve so much devotion ?

What had he done to deserve Jeff's ill treatment ?

How could he reconcile the ways the two most important men in his life acted towards him ? How could he stop feeling so lost, make sense of his own feelings for Jensen and the demands of his job ?

Jared broached the subject of the duel when he next saw Jensen, intent on making sure his lover wouldn't ever put himself at risk again to defend Jared's already long-dead honor.

"Jensen, why did you fight a duel for me ? You could have been killed ! Nemec certainly doesn't deserve the importance you gave him."

Jensen seemed to ponder his response.

"Listen. There was… I don't know, something in me just couldn't let it go. I've tried many times to put into words the way I felt when I saw you injured that day, but I never really managed, because it was so painful, the inkling that maybe, under different circumstances, I could have lost you… and my mind went blank. I couldn't take it. And it was not about Nemec, not for one second. Nemec can go to hell for all I care. _You_ deserve to be protected. I want every man who considers making a deal with you to know that they'll have to answer to me, should anything happen to you. Nemec was merely an instrument here. I'll never regret challenging him. I got what I wanted, and if it got him put back in his place as a side effect, well, all the better !"

Jensen came closer, tentatively putting his arms around Jared.

"Don't be angry, love. Nemec got his just deserts and you won't hear about him again."

"I'm not angry. Amazed that you'd do this for me, terrified of what might have happened, but certainly not angry with you. How could I be after so much proof of the way you care for me ?"

Jared leaned down to share the first of a string of heated kisses. His desire rose quickly, the memory of belonging to Jensen pushing him against his lover for a little game of frottage he was sure to win.

"I'm completely healed, you know," he murmured against Jensen's lips. "Back in the saddle, as they say. No more pain to prevent me from making love with you."

Then Jensen had to go and ruin the mood.

"Will you ever tell me why you let Morgan trample all over you ?" he whispered against Jared's lips. "What happened to you back then to make him your pimp ?"

Jared froze. His eyes met Jensen's and held the position.

But then he made himself relax. He could do it this time. If anyone was able to understand and know the truth without judging, Jensen, his very own champion, was that guy. If it happened that Jensen didn't understand, at the very least he would stop courting danger to protect someone who didn't feel deserving at all.

"It's a spiral, really," he began, his face against Jensen's hair so that their eyes wouldn't meet, "an inescapable chain of events. At first, I was just to sleep with Morgan and do everything he wanted for one night. Then he came back, said he enjoyed himself so much with me that first time that he wanted to try it again, to get me out of his system, stop thinking of me and my sweet ass all day long. It lasted longer that time, a whole weekend. Of course, it was still not enough, and after a few more not-so-secret meetings, less and less pleasing, he brought me back with him to the capital without even asking. Here, I was simply sequestered in his bachelor pad for weeks. He came by every day to fuck me. Sometimes even beat me, since no one could see. He came alone in the beginning, but soon he brought friends, just like he had done in my hometown. But this time he made them pay. That's how he started prostituting me, and from then on, there was nothing I could do to avoid this fate. Too many men had me for money. Too many took their pleasure with and in my body to go back to my old life. I only had two choices : put a bullet through my skull, or embrace the life and make it big. Deliver myself from Morgan's hold by earning so much money that he would agree to let me buy my freedom back. I didn't take in the fact that Morgan never lets go of what he considers his. Once he has you, he believes you belong to him forever. He'd probably prefer to see you dead than free. But even now, as aware as I am of this truth, I keep hoping that I'll be able to gather enough money someday, or to find the right argument to be free again."

Jensen leaned back and Jared could read on his lover's face that his persistent avoidance of the reasons why he had obeyed Jeff's demands in the first place hadn't escape his notice.

"But how did you get to meet him ?" Jensen insisted.

"He had business to do in my hometown. Listen, I'm tired. Can we go to bed now ?"

He felt bad to cut Jensen off that way but he had a headache coming on and no desire to dwell on his past. He had also been looking forward to sleeping in Jensen's arms for the last few days they had spent apart. It was not so much the sex he had missed, but the feeling of Jensen's love blanketing him, keeping him whole.

Jensen's shoulders slumped and he nodded, defeated, before he took Jared's hand to lead him to their bedroom. Jared refused to feel ashamed of himself. He would make it up to Jensen in the way he knew best.

Hellish weeks followed.

Jeff came by Jared's house every day, making sure he was working night after night, and taking an even bigger percentage than usual for each deal. Getting a blow job or a quick fuck too, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. In all their time together, Jeff had rarely let three days pass before he showed up for a treat – the perk of having a sex slave.

Jared felt exhausted, morally more than anything. The constant supervision took him back to the earlier days of his life, selling himself to anyone in order to avoid the punishments his master was so fond of. The unending trail of clients sent by Jeff to satisfy, sometimes three or more in the same day, something he had thought behind him since Jensen's article, left him just as tired.

Jeff made sure to remind Jared at each opportunity that he would never be free, that no amount of money would ever be enough to buy his freedom back. Jared kept telling himself that the trip with Jensen was worth every minute spent dealing with Jeff, every consequence, but in truth hope was deserting him that he would ever get back to a more normal life.

Licia had already asked him if he didn't love her anymore.

"Why would you think that ?" Jared reeled, shocked to the core.

His little girl was one of the two lights shining bright in his otherwise wrecked life. He skipped on sleep to be able to see her now and then.

"Because you don't come to see me every day like before. Jensen says that you are still a bit sick and he comes to see me every day for you but he's sad too."

"I'm sorry, baby," Jared said, taking his daughter in his arms to kiss her cheek. "Jensen's right, I'm tired and a tiny, teeny little bit sick, but I promise to do my best to come more often."

Vain wish, that had Jared feel even more guilty because of his inability to be there for the ones he loved. He debated internally for the hundredth time about the possibility of taking Licia home with him but knew already it wasn't practical. The house of a whore was no place for a child and he couldn't risk alerting some moral society about her, who would deem it preferable to take Licia away to bring her up poor and alone in some convent rather than loved and well cared for by a prostitute.

Teetering above the abyss, Jared knew something had to give soon.

True to Jensen's information, the house was quiet and dark and no dog stood guard in the backstreet garden.

The Morgans had received an invitation they couldn't pass up to an event their social status generally kept out of their reach. Jensen knew it because he had been the one arranging for them to be invited.

That left the valet, the maid and the cook. The first one was quite old and half-deaf, the second had a tendency to drink her boss' liquors whenever he went out, and the last one had been informed earlier that his sister was slightly wounded in an accident and needed his help, two towns over.

Jensen usually brought Misha as a backup in this kind of break-in. But in this particular case, he had deemed it preferable to keep his old friend out of potential trouble and Jared's secret still a secret.

To be perfectly honest, he also wanted to be Jared's one and only hero.

If all went well, Jensen would be out in a few minutes. If he was caught, he would face the charges alone. But he doubted Morgan would take this to court, not if he wanted to uphold any kind of good reputation, for fear of everything Jensen would have to say about him in a tribunal.

Now if Morgan didn't protect his house any better, it meant the man believed his safe strong enough to resist any burglar's attempts to break into it. Or maybe he kept his blackmail documents somewhere else, but Jensen doubted it. On the contrary, he was pretty sure Morgan preferred to keep everything close at hand, just like he was sure Morgan's wife didn't know the code to the safe (nor anyone else for that matter), and that Morgan's blackmailing had reached other people than Jared. He had probably been at it for a very long time, and maybe Jared had become for him the proverbial goose that laid the golden eggs, but there was no chance that Morgan had let anyone go that he could keep on squeezing dry to get a few more banknotes. Jared was probably right to think Morgan would never let him go, unless he was forced to.

To everyone, Morgan's wealthy situation seemed to come from a bit of well-thought dabbling in the stock market, but Jensen's sources and careful investigations for almost two years had revealed nothing of the kind. No, his whole fortune was built on other people's work and it predated Morgan's encounter with Jared. Jensen was ready to bet that his boyfriend was only one name among a long list of abusive dealings.

There were three locks and bolts on each possible entry to the house. Jensen chose the one furthest from the personnel's bedrooms that was also shadowed by the plane trees. He made quick work of the closing devices and began his search for the safe.

He found it, not surprisingly at all, in Morgan's office, hidden of course behind a painting, an unimaginative and very telling hunt scene in which the dogs held an innocent-looking doe, alive and terrified, on the ground with their jaws.

Jensen had memorized a string of numbers significant for the house's owner, including many ones regarding Jared. The safe finally opened after Jensen entered a date back when Jared was still a doe-like innocent teenage boy living in the provincial town where he had grown up. A date Jensen had been able to find by cross-checking the things Jared had told him and the facts about Morgan's life he had learned during his investigations.

"The day you met Jared," Jensen confirmed in his head, "how very original of you, Morgan. At least it looks like you recognize the preponderant part the one you think of as your slave played in your life. But it's over now, I won't let you mistreat him anymore."

Morgan might have been predictable so far, but it felt too easy. Jensen contemplated for a while the mass of letters and documents filling the safe, as well as the piles of banknotes and the jewel cases, before he extended his hand inside to check the papers first.

Only to take it out in a hurry when the memory of something he had read about Morgan hit him hard. Back in his younger days, the man had traveled to a few countries with his company and there was a good chance he had heard, just like Jensen, about a miscellaneous news item happening back when Morgan was posted on the neighboring continent. Then, a rich planter had protected his own safe by dredging the top document with glass shards soaked in a virulent poison. The burglar had died a horrible death. The news had made the front pages of the metropolitan newspapers after the planter's easy discharge had led to bloodily repressed mutinies.

Morgan using such a rotten trick would explain the lack of other, better protection that might have been difficult to justify to his wife if she wasn't in on his blackmailing affairs. After donning his gloves, Jensen carefully took hold of the upper document by its corners and set it on Morgan's desk. In the moonlight bathing the office, the paper definitely shone with a weird glow. He then confirmed that the second document hadn't been doctored or trapped in any way before taking it out, just like he did with everything else he handled. He might be over-cautious but he refused to give Morgan the satisfaction of his death or the opportunity to hurt Jared one more day.

He went through everything without finding any mention of Jared's name. Something told him it was there, though, that he was missing some detail only Jared would be able to reveal. And he couldn't stay much longer, not without risking Morgan or his cook coming back.

There was a very simple solution. Except for the first page found, he gathered all the items taken out of the safe in the bag he had brought along. He was here for Jared first and foremost but he liked very much the idea of saving all these other people from Morgan's greedy claws, almost as much as thinking that Morgan would find himself without resources from this moment on.

It was four in the morning by the time Jensen knocked on Jared's door. Chadwick was armed and ready when he opened the door, candlestick firmly in hand, but far from frightening with his hair sticking in every direction.

"Master Ackles ? Is something wrong ?"

"Nothing wrong, Chadwick, on the contrary ! I need to see Jared."

Jensen didn't wait for Chadwick to react ; he pushed the man out of his way with a happy kiss on his forehead and climbed up straight to Jared's bedroom. Although he hadn't drunk at all, he felt on the verge of tipsiness, gloriously happy and proud of himself.

Impatient to witness Jared's reaction, to see the relief on his face. He just couldn't take his lover's misery anymore, nor guess about the ill treatments he suffered at the hand of his pimp. Not after seeing him so joyful and carefree for three marvelous months far from their everyday life.

"Mister Padalecki is sleeping, sir," Chadwick called after him. "He came back late and he needs to rest."

Jensen knew Jared was alone tonight and this was all that mattered to him right now.

"Don't worry, Chad-boy. Your master will want to see this."

Jensen took his backpack off his shoulder and let it dangle in his hand, still climbing the stairway until he got to the corridor that led to Jared's private apartment.

"What's the ruckus ?" Jared asked as he appeared on his bedroom's threshold, just as disheveled as his valet but much more alluring in his naked glory. "Jensen ? We didn't have an appointment, is everything alright ?"

"Everything's great ! I have something to show you, come on."

Once again, Jensen pushed his way into the room, with a kiss on the lips this time, and Jared had no option but to follow him inside and close the door behind himself.

After Jensen had lit up two candles, Jared looked at his lover, wondering if he had had too much to drink or if a blow to the head was the reason for his agitated state. He tended towards alcohol because of Jensen's happy smile and the grand gesture he used to empty his bag onto Jared's blanket. Lots of documents, banknotes and jewels fell down and piled on the bed.

"Did you decide on a new career ?" he asked, taking in Jensen's all-black attire. "Is that the result of your first burglary ?"

"Technically, it's not my first, far from it," Jensen grinned, very pleased with himself.

"Really ?"

"Well, the army taught me a thing or two, and then I'm a good journalist. Where do you think I find some of my information ?"

The grin hadn't abated, and Jared felt himself falling a little bit more in love.

"But don't worry," Jensen added, "I'm not going to do this for a living."

"So what's all this ? And why did you bring it here ? At this hour ?"

"Jared, this is the contents of Morgan's safe."

Some kind of deep and low thump resonated around Jared's heart, associated with the eerie feeling of weighing more than usual. Unless it was the ground holding his feet in place, magnetized ; his brain, too, incapable at the moment of a thought beyond cataloging the weird sensations he was experiencing.

Eventually, the fog cleared enough that Jared realized Jensen was still speaking. He'd have to ask again later about the way he had come into possession of Morgan's safe's contents. Right now, though, Jared only wanted to find his letter and make sure he was free. Like a wand operating its magic, a movement of Jensen's arm shook him at last out of his trance and he finally managed to walk to the bed.

"…I didn't see your name, so I just took it all. Who knows, maybe that way we'll be able to help other people that Morgan's been blackmailing like you for how many years…"

Jared hardly listened, too busy looking through the pile of papers for the letter that had brought about his fall.

He found it finally, and read it all again, even though the words were still etched in his memory, fresh as the first day. Then, without thinking too long about what it meant for him, he passed it on to Jensen who began to read only to turn back towards Jared in the next instant.

"Jared, is it a mistake ? This is not about you, and the letter is signed Anita."

"She's my sister. She's the leverage Morgan used to make me obey his orders."

"How so ?" Jensen asked quietly.

Jared indicated the letter in Jensen's hands again.

"Go on, read it."

"Are you sure ? I don't need to know if you prefer that it remains your family's secret."

Jared leaned down to kiss Jensen.

"And I love you for that. Thank you, but I think I'd like you to know."

Before he agreed, almost wary, Jensen scrutinized him long enough for Jared to fidget uncomfortably. He sat down on the bed to avoid Jensen's too-knowing gaze but he was done keeping secrets and it probably showed on his face.

"Okay," Jensen consented, sitting face-to-face.

Jensen's reading speed far exceeded Jared's usually, but his lover took his time to let the whole story sink in and extrapolate the outcome. The sad and not very original tale of a young and naïve provincial girl, fiancée to a man she didn't love to ensure her whole family's return to wealth, who allowed herself to be seduced by an older, handsome man from the capital. How, once pregnant, she had reached out to him for help through a compromising letter the man had used to blackmail her younger brother and make him his whore, as well as a never-ending and continuously growing source of income.

"My god, Jared, it was never your own doing that forced you into prostitution. You did it all for her !"

"She was my big sister, and she needed help. I couldn't let her down. I just thought that nobody would make a big deal if I slept with him, unlike what would happen if anyone heard about Anita. You know as well as me that a pregnancy before marriage would have ruined her reputation forever. So I agreed to the deal he offered, and I slept with him."

"Was he your first lover ?"

"Yes," Jared admitted faintly. "He was handsome, you know, so I imagined it would be quite easy. But I kept thinking he had had my sister already, and that he was not a good man, and the sex was rough for a poor kid who still had many illusions about the way it should be. Morgan and his friends disabused me quickly enough of my romanticism, but Morgan managed to sell me as a virgin for quite some time, because I'd blush and cry a lot every time someone new took me."

"I wish…" Jensen whispered, emotional. "I wish I had been there for you, that I could give you that first magical time."

"It's not that terrible. I did it because I wanted to. If Morgan didn't marry Anita, at least he could give the money for an abortion, that's all I was thinking back then."

"So what became of the kid ?"

"We found an angel maker, and then it was gone. Anita was doing poorly after that, but she made it look like the flu and that was it. Morgan had taught her a harsh lesson : better a boring husband than an untrustworthy lover. She had been very lukewarm about marrying Brown before that, but after her ordeal she sped things up. She was married five months later and she had no time left for me. Morgan took me to the capital during her honeymoon. The only person aware I was missing was my mom, who thought I was acting up again. She believed I had been moody all those months because I was jealous of the attention lavished on Anita during her illness as well as the wedding's preparation. She kept telling me to grow up, that my time would come, but only if I stopped making a fool of myself and sleeping around with men far too old for me. Morgan had offered me on purpose to people who couldn't keep quiet, so that my reputation would condemn me and force my cooperation. Mom never knew what had really happened to me. And then I became quite infamous. That's when she told me never to come back home. She died a few years later, before I could see her again."

Jensen brought him a bit of comfort by holding his hands.

"What about your sister ?"

"I… I haven't seen or spoken with her since then either."

Jensen tensed.

"Do you mean that you gave up your life for her, you offered her the unique chance to live a normal life, and she wasn't even grateful enough to support you morally ? Couldn't she acknowledge the truth, to your mother at the very least, once everything was over ?"

"No, she couldn't. Her husband wouldn't allow her to talk about his humiliation or meet with me, not with a whore who had put such a blemish on the family's reputation. As it is, she was lucky that he agreed to go on with the marriage when he found out about me, as Morgan had made sure that everybody believed I was sleeping around for money. Another way to tie me to him."

"She could have gone behind his back, maintained a written relationship with you, even if she kept it secret. Made sure you were not harmed, in danger. God, she let her baby brother take the fall for her own stupidity and then closed her door to his face. Did you ever try to contact her ?"

"No. I was too afraid she wouldn't respond, and I didn't want to ruin her life, not after everything I did to protect her. I wanted one of us safe at least."

Jensen leaned towards him to kiss his lips softly.

"You have no idea how very proud I am right now of being your lover. You're the most incredible, the most loving man I've ever met, and I can only hope to be able to make you as proud of me someday as I am of you."

Jared's heartbeat faltered at those words and he watched Jensen with wide, teary eyes.

"I remember what you said that first night," Jensen continued. "I remember your exact words because I wrote them down. I didn't think we'd be seeing each other again anytime soon and I didn't want to forget anything about you and that wonderful night. You said "it's more a matter of the job choosing me than choosing the job." This way to put it was awfully kind to Morgan. Because Jared, what he did to you, that was rape, pure and simple rape."

"I agreed to do it."

"You agreed under coercion. You had no choice at all, and Morgan knew it."

There was so much hate in Jensen's voice Jared was afraid he would just go and fight another duel for his honor.

"Promise me you won't challenge him to a duel !"

Jensen's mouth closed, lips thin and unhappy about Jared's demand. He had been right to be afraid.

"Promise me, Jensen ! It's not worth it. It happened many years ago, and I'm not that kid anymore. Morgan is not a coward like Nemec. He knows how to shoot, and I wouldn't be surprised if he cheated to get rid of you. Please, Jensen ! I can't go on without you. Not now, not ever."

Jared's eyes filled with tears, big, heartfelt ones that managed to convince Jensen.

"I promise, love, I won't challenge him. I guess a duel would raise too many questions anyway, so I'll be happy with the knowledge that he's got nothing to live on from now on."

Jensen kindly didn't mention that Morgan could choose to fight back by launching a nasty rumor about Anita's lack of morals, even without proof. There would always be a lot of people ready to believe the worst. But they could deny it all now, Anita was married and safe, and fighting a duel would only feed the gossip.

"I'm going to take care of the other letters by sending them back to their rightful owners in the morning. Unless you prefer to do it ?"

"No, go ahead. I know you'll do the right thing."

"What about the money ? The jewels ?" Jensen asked, offering a cushy wad of banknotes to Jared.

"Keep it all," Jared refused, hands raised to block it.

"A lot of this money is yours, you worked so hard to earn it."

"No, I don't want any of it."

Jensen's hands fell back to his lap.

"Can I ask you why ?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem right somehow."

"Because it's dirty money ? Or because you still think in a way that you owe him ?"

Jared's eyes searched for a non-dangerous place to look, anything to avoid Jensen's.

"Share it between the people who need it when you send the other documents back, or make an anonymous donation to a charity, I don't care. I won't use it. I'm free now, and I don't want any more ties to that man."

Forcing Jensen to stand, Jared gathered the four corners of the blanket and held them to take the contents to his desk. He felt tired again suddenly and he needed to rest and cuddle.

"Come to bed," he told Jensen.

He watched as his lover disrobed quickly, and the last thing he felt was Jensen's arm surrounding him before his swirling thoughts stopped for a while.

"Thanks for seeing me, Judge Richings," Jensen said as the eminent lawman sat behind his desk. "I know what I told your clerk but I'm not here as a journalist today."

"Really ? So what is it that I can do for you, Mr. Ackles ?"

Jensen had called on the judge more than once to corroborate details of his articles. They appreciated each other's independent mind and ethics and he was glad to do this for him today.

"Some evidence came into my hands recently, and I've taken it upon myself to give it back to the rightful owners. I believe this belongs to you."

Jensen offered to the judge the letter he had taken out of his frock coat. The man hardly read two lines before his face turned a ghostly white.

"I haven't read it," Jensen hastened to comfort him. "I have no idea what leverage upon you this letter gave to the man who possessed it until the day before yesterday, or what it speaks of. Nor do I want any compensation for giving it back into your care. I just want you to know that the situation is over and that the man won't be able to blackmail you anymore."

The judge fell back into his imposing Louis Philippe desk chair, a hand trying clumsily to hide his face and his tremendous relief.

"I can't tell you…" he began, but then coughed and cleared his throat, straightening again, "you have no idea what it means to a man like me to make only one mistake, and get threatened to lose everything over it for the rest of his life."

Jensen had never experienced that kind of relief, but he could see how close to tears the older, severe man had been brought by the news.

"You're right, I know nothing about what you endured all that time. But I know what it means to see all your hopes beaten down because of one aspect of your life. And you can do something about it."

The judge's face rose back to look Jensen right in the eyes.

"Once again," Jensen went on, "I want to say that this is not blackmail or extortion. This is a plea, for one of my friends who has been the victim of the same man as you, forced into a life of prostitution by his doings, and who has been paying the price ever since."

"Jared Padalecki ?" the judge guessed, knowing very well about Jensen's ties to the courtesan.

"Exactly. The man we're talking about blackmailed him just like you with a letter written by someone Jared cared about when he was still a teenager, to get him into his bed first, but then to make money by offering him to his friends. Jared survived admirably in those circumstances, he did the best he could, but people still see him as a whore."

"I understand your point, Mr. Ackles, but as sympathetic as I might be to his plight, the fact remains that Padalecki is indeed a prostitute."

"I know, believe me, I know. But he's not any less of a good man for it, and his most fervent wish has always been to adopt the daughter of a friend of his who died during childbirth. The little girl has no other parent, but still the court refused to grant Jared adoption. That's why I'm begging you to reconsider, in the light of everything you learned today. Only you can understand what Jared went through. Do not let his occupation deprive a little girl of the man she considers as her father just because Jared is not a paragon of virtue. Society failed him once, do not let the law make the same mistake."

Judge Richings caressed his beard as he thought about Jensen's plea.

"You're very eloquent, but as much as I understand your point of view, I can't set such a precedent. Every whore in this country would petition for adoption if the fancy took them after that, and you know as well as I do that most of these children would end up on the street."

Jensen closed his eyes to keep his own tears in. He had been so lucky so far, enough to believe this could work too.

"I do have another idea," the judge continued. "You seem like you care a lot about both Mr. Padalecki and this little girl. If this is the case, I could grant _you_ adoption of… what's the child's name ?"

"Licia. Felicia Day," Jensen answered, stupefied.

"Should you become Felicia's father, this little girl's future would be secure and you could then decide where and with whom she was to stay. What do you say ?"

Jensen felt a huge smile split his face in two. This could work. This might even be a better solution : Jared would be able to bring up Felicia the way he wanted, and Jensen would get to see her too for as long as he wished. He loved the little girl just as much as Jared and he couldn't imagine not seeing her again in case she was ever adopted by someone else.

"I'll have to ask Licia and Jared," he answered thoughtfully, "but yes, I think I'd like that."

"Then come back as soon as you're all in agreement, and this will be a done deal. I'll be happy to grant you adoption, for this child's sake as well as yours and your friend's. Not only as a thank-you gift, but because I'm sure that you will be a great father. With you and Padalecki, this child will be raised with more love and care than most children could ever hope for."

As he took leave, Jensen thought the silly grin would stay etched on his face for the remainder of his life.

Jensen often wondered why the beautiful Liz Vassey, otherwise known as Nanny, had never married. Maybe some fiancé had broken her heart once, pushing Liz to pursue a career as substitute mother. Whatever the reason, Liz was damn good at the job, and Licia loved her.

One man's loss, Felicia's gain. Liz had found the right balance of firmness and love to bring up this particular child and Jensen intended to keep her in case both Licia and Jared accepted his offer.

He needed to talk about it with Jared first and try to control the feeling of betrayal his lover might experience, make sure he understood Jensen hadn't done it with this goal in mind, that he had instead done his best to push Jared's agenda first and foremost. Jensen could imagine how unfair it would feel to be refused once again in favor of someone who had only been around during the last few months to take care of the little girl, whereas Jared had been there for every fever, every aching tooth, every huge sorrow.

Jensen had finally been sure of Jared's feelings for him more than a year after they had become lovers, the day he had tagged along at Jared's request to meet Felicia for the first time. Not only had Jared's façade – the veneer of pretty, fashionable airhead – entirely crumbled in front of the child, Jensen had felt he was allowed to enter Jared's inner sanctum, a place somehow more intimate than the physical penetration they enjoyed so much together.

Maybe in their case one had led to the other. A fine tuning of their bodies, fiercely reacting to the other like matches, frottage as the ignition, penetration to put it all afire ; a physical closeness bringing this beautiful, unexpected trust and a desire to dig further into the risky depths of a loving relationship.

From this point on, there was no way for either of them to hide their true feelings, and by extension the different parts of their lives that made them who they were. Jared visited the Gazette, Jensen's home away from home, and he met Jensen's best friends, Misha and Ty, as well as his family. Jensen got to share whole nights and days with his lover, and he met Licia, Jared's not quite officially adopted daughter.

Jensen loved kids the way every single, childless man of his age did : a pleasant prospect for an eventual future life, nieces and nephews to spoil, friends' children to entertain. Only fun stuff, responsibility and daily care alien to him.

His experience with Felicia turned out very similar to begin with. She proved a delightful kid, raised far more liberally than any other little girl of their society thanks to her surrogate father and the incredible nanny he had found for her, a strong woman who didn't believe in waiting for a man to shape her life and thus brought up Licia in the same fashion. Visit after visit, Licia stole Jensen's heart, kind of like Jared had done with him. Like father, like daughter, Jensen had whispered to Jared the night he told Jared about going to see his daughter alone for the first time, earning himself a very arousing session of lovemaking for the simple recognition of Jared's natural link to Licia.

There were tears, of course, when Jensen told Jared about the judge's offer, and the expected accusations of betrayal, but Jared's pragmatism showed quickly when Jensen reminded him of all his earlier rebuffs. Then came the apologies, more tears, and Jared's warm and loving thanks for ensuring Licia's safety and promising to let Jared be still in charge of the girl's upbringing.

"Together," Jared concluded. "We're gonna be such great parents."

They discussed house arrangements and agreed that the best solution would be for Licia to live with Jensen. Liz approved of their plans, and she also agreed to follow Licia and come to live in the house Jensen was ready to extend to accommodate her.

Next came Licia, and Jensen felt his soul burst with joy when the little girl launched herself at him.

"Papa ! I want to live with you in your house," she accepted with a thrilled cry.

She seemed to understand she would officially become his daughter, but probably not that Jared still had no legal right over her.

Jensen took note, in the part of his heart that always beat in tune with Jared's, to find a way to make it up to his lover, to erase the wistful expression on his face and make sure that he'd never feel left out of their family.

"Thanks for meeting me, Mrs. Brown, especially on such short notice."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Ackles. It's a tremendous honor for someone like me, simple countryside housewife with no connection, to be called upon by a man of your stature and knowledge. I heard my husband say that your Gazette is the most read newspaper in this city. You have touched the hearts and minds of our citizens."

Jensen had come full of righteous fury, intent on making Anita confess the error of her ways, beat her own breast with remorse, maybe even publicly regret abandoning her younger brother, but she didn't fit the image he had built in his mind, the haughty bourgeoise so certain of her superiority, stuck on her petty morals ; she was in fact so far from it that his mind filled with questions he was hard-pressed not to ask all at once. She looked so young, and kind of lost. Jensen recognized on her face the melancholy he had to fight in Jared at times, the belief to be no more than a waste of space and air. It touched him right in the place where his fiery feelings for Jared resided.

"I don't know how much gossip made its way from the capital to the province, Mrs. Brown," he began, unsure of his speech by now, "so I'm going to be very forward : I'm your brother's lover."

Jensen studied her reaction closely, although her bent neck and the lace handkerchief made it difficult to see her face.

"How is he ?" she asked faintly.

"Do you really want to know ?"

Here was the anger he couldn't exactly forget.

"Of course I want to know ! He's my brother."

"A fact you forgot for many years, right after you let him deal for you with a vicious monster who took his innocence and prostituted him. Why should I believe you care now ?"

He was so very tempted to leave, and never let her know that her ordeal was over, that the proof of her juvenile recklessness couldn't threaten her happiness anymore. He was amazed to discover in himself a well of pettiness he had never suspected, and it all came from the same place where his love for Jared was born. It was chilling, and more than a little empowering, and it took a conscious effort on his part to get past it.

But as he watched her silent tears, he realized her pain was not fake. She might have taken the easy way out in her youth, but regrets were now part of her daily life.

"Let's make something clear," he began anew. "I'm not here on Jared's behalf. He probably expected me to come as he tasked me with getting all proof of Morgan's blackmail back to its rightful owners, but he didn't ask me to bring you a special message. I think, after all these years, he believes he's not worth your time, or your love."

"That's not the truth ! I love him, and I always will. My husband… he knows I wasn't a virgin when we married, and he managed to get the whole sordid story out of me. But he thinks Jared should have found another way to save me, and that he pays for trying to deceive him. He forbids me to write to my own brother, and Jared's name is banished in this house. I'm not sure my children realize they have another uncle, let alone that they wouldn't be here, in this world, without his sacrifice."

Jensen was pleased to see her passionate reaction was all about Jared's feeling of inadequacy. She had all but ignored the news about Morgan.

"If you really think that, maybe you could write him now, and I'll pass the letter on."

"I don't write that kind of letter anymore. No offense, Mr. Ackles, but for all you know the family's sad story, you're still a journalist. I won't risk putting into your hands something that could damn me again and make me lose my life, my children, definitely."

"Is this your husband's threat to make you cooperate ?"

"My husband has our children's best interests at heart. He knows I'm weak and he will protect them at all costs."

Anita's tone showed she had been entirely convinced of her own weakness and liability. The Padaleckis had clearly mastered the art of castigating themselves for the sins they had committed and the ones they might come to someday.

"Very well," he said, certain that he couldn't make her change her mind. "Would you prefer a verbal message, then ?"

"Tell him… tell him that I'm so sorry, and that I hope someday… Is Jared happy, Mr. Ackles ? The few times I heard about him, people said he lived the high life, that he had a lot of money and hundreds of clients. They never really talked about _him_ , you know. He was so happy and carefree, before. But then Morgan took it all away."

Jensen debated internally about whether he should sugarcoat it a bit or not. Jared would probably hide the worst of his dealings but Jensen thought she ought to know the consequences of her actions.

"Morgan hurt him a lot, in many ways. He made him his slave, he prostituted him, and beat him when Jared wouldn't comply with his orders, or just for the fun of it. But Jared is resilient. He's found some kind of balance. I'm not sure I can use the word happy, not for more than a few moments of his life anyway, but that's the way for all of us on this Earth, I guess."

"He was always the one to see the bottle half-full," Anita remembered fondly. "Is he in love with you ?"

"I think so. We've been together for more than two years, and I've never loved anyone more than Jared. He's everything I want. I try to give him back some of the love he lost with his family and his freedom, to make sure he'll get as many of these moments of happiness as possible."

"So you decided to take on Morgan."

Jensen didn't know when he had become the interviewee rather than the interviewer. Anita's sudden hunch felt like one of those he came to on his job. She had no more doubts than he would.

"I did. It was far past the time to stop him from arming and endangering innocent people. Jared has your letter now, or maybe he burned it, but the threat is over, for both of you."

She acknowledged the news with a nod but didn't dwell on it. Just like Jared, Morgan's presence or not had been only a small part of her problem for a very long time. There was no coming back to their previous life.

"Will he stop prostituting himself ?"

"I don't know. I feel Jared… Look, some part of him is now persuaded that he can't be anything else, or anything better. And another part decided long ago to become the best in his field. To be _the_ ultimate courtesan, the model upon which all others will measure their own worth. I think Morgan being out of the picture will only push him to prove himself more and more."

"Then tell Jared I wish him luck in all his endeavors. To use at best his newfound freedom. And that I hope, someday, he will find in himself the desire to forgive me."

_  
**A man's conscience, by Jensen Ackles**  
_

_There comes a time in a man's life when he has to choose what fork in the road he will travel from now on._

_Some choices feel easy, some others get you down on your knees with the violence applied on your soul. Some people never choose, preferring to let fate or chance act in their place. Others are born heroes who will always walk the path leading to their loved ones' happiness._

_And then come the conscienceless men. Royalists who want to keep the people in slavery. Bosses who work their employees to the bone and throw them out when they're not productive enough anymore. Doctors who care more for the prestige of their job than the pain of their patients and choose to serve the whims of a rich clientele rather than try to heal or comfort the endless crowd of sick and penniless indigents._

_Worst of them : the profiteers. The parasites ready to suck the living energy out of their fellow human beings to be allowed to live the high life. I've met quite a few of that type in my time as a journalist. They're the same everywhere and their crimes vary only in magnitude. There's the opportunist, who was lucky enough to stumble onto someone's shame and made it their duty to keep this person's secret for a very reasonable price. The man I'm going to talk about today is more of a professional. Blackmail has become his area of expertise over the years and no one will smell a potential prey with more efficiency than him. Out of respect for his victims' privacy, we'll call him Mr. X._

_This man was born some 40 years ago, somewhere in the south-east of the country, in a small village of less than one thousand souls, third son and undeserved black sheep of a modest, Protestant family devoted to God and respectful of their neighbors. This simple life soon proved inadequate for someone of X's special talent, the village too small, opportunities too rare. Never mind ! X forced his way into the local Lord's family by marrying his daughter, first master stroke that brought him both the money and the occasion to move to the capital._

_The young couple settled in a quaint little house on the periphery of those fashionable districts they could only aspire to access someday. Now attached by his manhood to aristocracy, X refused to dirty his hands with hard work while he didn't see the need to pay those who worked for him – after all, money was best spent on rich clothing and heady wines. Even then, he managed to squander his wife's dowry in less than two years._

_Armed with his handsome face and easy smile, X quickly found a way to refloat his sinking household. First came the married women he put in his bed. The ever-charming Mr. X promised his faithful silence, in exchange for a small remuneration to be repeated once a month, until death do them part. Those who didn't relent would soon see their husband in possession of an incriminating letter in their own, recognizable handwriting that they had been foolish enough to write in the throes of passion._

_Already sharp enough to know which women to target, Mr. X collected skills and method in that time, but his abused lovers amounted to small-fry in a limited pond for his ever-growing needs and ambitions. It was more than time to take it to the next level, hit directly where the money lay, and this time Mr. X didn't wait for the person at fault to come to him. He set the trap himself._

_X had his eyes on a banker. What better source of income than a man who disposes not only of his own wages but those of all his clients ? He found one who, not good enough at covering his misdeeds, hung himself not three years later when he faced dishonor and prison. The next one lasted X almost ten years before shame and fear of getting caught sent him to an early grave by way of a heart attack. The third banker was still serving Mr. X as of a few days ago, and our only hope is that this will be for him a salutary lesson never forgotten. Retirement looks like a most wise decision after playing for many years with the money entrusted to his care._

_But let's not forget all the other people cornered by X in a trap of his making. The judges, the housewives, the teenagers, all innocent of any real wrongdoing but too afraid of society's judgment to face it. I know what many of you think : those people had it coming. They brought their own fall onto themselves._

_Dear reader, let me tell you only this. Not even mentioning that I know for a fact that some of those people paid not for a crime of their own but to protect their loved ones, which of us can claim they never did something stupid they still regret to this day, that would have cost them dearly had X found out about it ?_

_The world is free, for the time being, of X's manipulations. Even if this particular man never manages to attract other fools he will play like a fiddle, how many other leeches make their way into life by the sweat of someone else's brow ? A lot more than we know. And to counter them, it might be time to rethink our value system and stop placing so much importance on what people think of us._

_As long as our social order will rank people for their lineage instead of their good deeds, as long as our civilization will let the poor and unknown die in a deafening silence, we will all suffer from those parasites' grip on our self-image. I pray to you, my friends. Let's make this world a place where reputation can't kill a man._

_A world where we open our minds to other people's feelings and never judge them for their differences._

"So that's how you managed to marry me," Samantha said as she put the newspaper down on her lap to look at her husband. "What did you have on my father ?"

Her hate for Jeffrey dated back to the day she had first laid eyes on him. Handsome as he may be, the man always exuded duplicity. She fought tooth and nail to get out of this marriage deal but a girl had to do what her father thought best for her and she wasn't strong enough to flee the comfort of her home and take her chances on the high roads.

"What makes you think Viscount Ferris was anything else than the perfect gentleman he purported to be ?" Jeffrey mocked her.

"He despised you. I never understood why he would agree to our union but I can see now that the only reason was a secret he needed to make sure you would keep."

"That's a theory. Or maybe he simply wanted to get rid of you, the impossible-to-marry, graceless tomboy. I don't remember seeing plenty of young men asking for your hand, am I wrong ?"

"I might have been a tomboy, but you're a disgrace to mankind. Blackmail ! That's the way of the cowards."

"My dear, this coward has supported you ever since he put you into his bed, so don't get on your high horse. You have nothing to boast about, not even able to bring a child to this world that would survive more than a month, and you're certainly no better than me."

"I am the daughter of a viscount !" Samantha stormed as she stood up, full of the disdain of her ancestors.

"Try a majordomo," Jeffrey replied coldly, though a nasty smile appeared on his face in answer to Samantha's shock and horror.

"You're lying," she whispered.

"I'm not. You wanted to know why. I guess the relief of being rid of your stain is a good explanation. Getting so lightly out of the predicament I put him in when I told him I had proof that could ruin your whole family's reputation forever. You were a small price to pay, in the end."

Samantha stared at this man long and hard, thinking about all those people whose lives he had turned into a nightmare. Thinking that for how much she had hated him, it was still nothing compared to the violent disgust she now felt in his vicinity. Certainly, he was taking out on her his anger at being found out and exposed to the public opprobrium – not many people would be fooled by this Mr. X charade. But she knew he was telling the truth at last, hoping the news of her origins would bring her down to his level.

She wanted to ask more questions about her real father, answers she would never get from her parents, now both deceased, lying next to the three babies she had miscarried and the two who had died soon after their birth. Jeffrey hadn't ever felt that broken up about their death. Fathering children was just a way to make it easier to steal the title of Viscount Ferris for himself by pretending to keep it alive for his children, the true and future heirs of the late Viscount. It appeared today that he hadn't cared either if Samantha wasn't really a Ferris, only that her hand came with a good dowry and no sons or close male cousins to claim the title.

All those concerns didn't feel that important after all. If her life had been built on so many lies and tears, she was the only one able to make it right.

"Very well," she said. "I guess this conversation is over."

Samantha turned towards her sewing kit while Jeffrey retrieved the newspaper that had fallen on the floor when she had suddenly stood up, affecting to laugh at the article. Samantha knew him too well to be fooled. Jeff was beyond furious.

How fitting that the last words he would ever read listed the crimes he would pay for. Prosecution closing speech and verdict intimately tied, execution immediate.

She rummaged through the wool balls and bobbins of her kit, slowly walking towards the exit, head bent in a silent prayer. Her husband ignored her, just like he had done for nearly twenty years, and it was his last mistake. Hidden by the Gazette, the scissors came at him unseen before they plunged into his heart.

"Peace be with you now," Samantha wished as she pulled the scissors out and watched the blood flow.


	3. Vigils of sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Forehead against the pane as a vigil of sorrow_  
>  _I search for you beyond the wait_  
>  _Beyond myself_  
>  _And I love you so much that I no longer know_  
>  _Which one of us is absent._  
>  Paul Éluard, L'amour, la poésie (1929)

Jeff was dead. His wife had confessed to stabbing him and now served a life sentence. Jared doubted the poor woman deserved such a fate after being at the monster's disposal for so many years. She risked death at first, but Jensen, feeling the blame for her actions should be attributed to his article (to the consternation of both Jared and his editor), contacted a lawyer of his acquaintance and paid his professional fees to defend her to the best of his ability – he had mostly ruined her, after all, by emptying Morgan's safe. Despite the fact that he wouldn't reveal any other victim's name, Jensen's testimony impressed the judge enough that he sympathized with Samantha Morgan's plight and refused to have her hanged.

She had kept her head down during the trial, her only words to conclude that her "whole life had been a lie." Jared felt for her. He knew the sensation all too well, especially after Jensen's report of his meeting with Anita, and his description of the way his sister was just as much a prisoner of her own life, regardless of Jared's sacrifice.

More than six months after the events unraveled by Jensen's actions to save him, nothing about Jared's new situation still felt quite true, even though everything in his existence was definitely turning for the better, devoid of his master's shadow looming over every one of his acts and wishes.

The first noticeable change was about money. Before, Jared had to share with Jeff 40 to 70 % of his income, depending on Jeff's current state of generosity and how much Jared managed to hide from him. Now that his freedom was complete, all the cash earned went to Jared's own pocket. No one could tell him what to do with it. No one could live off his personal hard work.

At some point, the fantasy took him to get paid in diamonds and jewels, like many other colleagues, something he had stopped asking for long ago because Jeff simply grabbed the gems and didn't bother repaying Jared's part – he had learned that lesson the hard way once again when he had seen the precious stones assembled in necklaces, rings or drop earrings on Jeff's wife and mistresses, and Jeff had told him to forget about repayment, the jeweler had cost him enough already !

Now, Jared could collect diamond watches, sapphire cufflinks and emerald bracelets, gold ankle chains and ruby ear studs. He simply made sure to avoid using them in front of Jensen, out of respect for his lover's less advantageous financial status. Jensen led an easy life but he was by no means rich, not like Jared anyway, and he didn't like ostentatious displays of richness, the parvenus who couldn't help showing off their newfound wealth with a side of contempt for their previous social class.

His freedom pushed Jared to show everyone what he was really capable of. With no orders to follow about who to treat as a special client and who to ignore, Jared's business swiftly rose to new heights. This evolution might not be as prominent as the effect of Jensen's article, but no tethers meant a larger array of customers, including some of those parvenus Jensen disliked so much who were ready to pay huge amounts for the opportunity to be seen with a famous, fashionable and pretty lover hanging on their arm.

He made sure to appear at the trendy promenade of the Holly Wood, not once in a while like he used to but daily, sitting astride one of the most gorgeous stallions he had been able to find. Black or white, his horses always wore coats, feathers and jewels matching his own colors. As for his courtiers, the ones able to show a handkerchief of the color of the day were authorized to follow and entertain him.

A visit to one of the few courtesans who could still be considered more famous and better paid than him inspired Jared's next move. He found that his own house was desperately plain. He couldn't host the receptions he thought of in such a boring place. He had to be more imaginative to keep his clients' interest, always more fashionable and attractive. Money respected nothing more than money, so the way to go was to display through interior remodeling and improvement his own social climbing.

Anything to be loved and admired, to get discussed for his beauty and attractiveness even before his skills between the sheets.

Workers invaded his house, hard men who might mock him and his outrageous suits but showed heartwarming reverence for their own crafts, turning his house into the palace he had imagined, malachite paneling and marble three-tap bathtub.

Success answered Jared's call and soon his parties were the most interesting events of the nightlife, the place to be seen, and Jared _the_ courtesan to hire.

Spending all your time thinking about your lover during your travels, only to find him in a very compromising situation by the time of your return, stopped the most amorous lover dead in his tracks.

"Jensen ?" Jared asked, visibly surprised to find him on his bedroom threshold, and maybe a little annoyed at the interruption. "What are you doing here ? I wasn't waiting for you."

"Evidently," Jensen replied, sarcastic, as he crossed his arms in an attempt to distance himself while taking in the raunchy scene playing in front of his eyes.

Jared flinched. Jared who was very naked, just as the man kneeling behind him. On Jared's private bed. In his private bedroom, where Jensen had let himself in after Chadwick had failed to answer the door.

"I had a note sent at the Gazette to cancel our appointment."

"Which explains why I didn't get it, I've been out of town for the last three days. Never mind, I'll see myself out. Count Fenwick, sorry for the disruption."

The gentleman nodded to accept his excuses right before Jensen turned around. Jared tried to stop him.

"No, Jensen ! Wait !"

Jensen didn't, and Jared didn't chase him.

It was one thing to know that your lover slept with other men for a living. Seeing him at work, though, felt like the world suddenly turned the wrong way, and Jensen thought it would bring him to his knees.

He didn't know how he kept on walking, how he got home and took Licia in his arms. He never cried, lost in a kind of shock ; it was more Jared's way to deal with pain anyway, Jensen preferred to wear himself out with work. He didn't sleep either. He didn't eat. He breathed because his body did it for him.

Jared was not his, Jensen was perfectly aware of that fact. But he didn't want to be. He wanted to keep living in denial, to block his imagination about Jared's deals at pleasant conversations and light flirting. Jensen had compromised with his one rule about a love relationship to be able to be with Jared. Overlooking his many work-related relationships was the only way to stay together and be happy, and Jensen loved Jared too much to think about losing him.

Now this scene in Jared's bedroom, the place he had sworn was only for Jensen and he, had all the foundations of their relationship that Jensen thought tough and unbreakable shaking with the power of the blow.

Jared sent a new note to say how sorry he was and ask Jensen to visit again.

Jensen lied and he had Wallace answer that his master was out of town again.

He kept away for two weeks, although Jared certainly wasn't fooled by any of his lies. He needed time to process what he had seen, and Jared was smart enough to let him do it. Or he just didn't care enough to corner him at work or at home and have the necessary talk their next encounter was sure to bring forth.

When he felt strong enough to confront the risk of a potential quarrel, Jensen agreed to the appointment Jared had proposed and headed to his house, patiently waiting for Chadwick to answer the door this time.

Jared's smile was tentative when he welcomed Jensen. They had never really argued, and Jensen had never voluntarily kept away from him for so long outside of his travels, nor stood so far on the other side of Jared's bedroom. As if Jared was suddenly dirty and Jensen didn't want anything to do with him.

It wounded him to the core, not knowing if he should fight or flee.

"I'm so sorry for what you had to witness the other day. I really…"

"The very first day you invited me here," Jensen cut him off, "you said you wouldn't ever bring a client to this part of the house. That it was sacred and vital for you, this division of public and private, the only way to keep something of yourself true and unspoiled. And you wanted to share this part of you with me. I think I fell in love with you right then, right there. But today I feel like I don't recognize you anymore."

"I know what I said, but there's a perfectly valid reason for this momentary change. The other part of the house has appeared to be infested with moths and Chadwick has condemned it all during the cleaning. And then I decided to use the opportunity to get a bit of modernizing in, hence the need to retreat to my apartment. That's all. I promise I haven't changed my mind, things will go back to normal as soon as the crisis is over."

"Still you reneged on your word. Why couldn't you take your clients somewhere else, in a hotel maybe, or even to their own homes ? Anywhere but the place you said was out of bounds to them."

"And why are you so difficult about it ?"

"Because I love you, and I can't stand seeing you cheapen your belief, cheapen yourself."

"Cheapen our relationship, you mean. You can't stand seeing other men get what you thought was yours only."

"Of course I can't stand it ! This relationship will only ever amount to what we want it to be, and what efforts we put into it."

Jared felt suddenly close to tears.

"I've done everything I could to make it work."

"Have you ? It seems to me that in the last few months, Licia and I have been nothing but drags to you. You used to find time for us despite Jeff's demands, but not anymore. You've got so many other things to do, and you cancel on us regularly at the last minute, which means that you accept invitations after you've agreed or planned to see us. I get that you want to be successful, but the people who love you need to see you too. You don't even bother asking me for a quick visit in the afternoon like we enjoyed so often in the past. I'm losing you, and I don't know what to do about it."

Jared's heart broke with Jensen's words, and he couldn't really deny any of his accusations. He didn't fully understand what was happening to him, his strange reluctance at spending time on anything else than work. It wasn't only Jensen and Licia he had been avoiding, but any and all things bearing a hint of pleasure for him. Pleasure meant that he wasn't working hard enough, that he wouldn't ever be the most successful and best-paid courtesan of the world, because he lacked the will to do everything needed to get there.

But he couldn't lose Jensen either. Part of it was the love he felt for the man, so deep and troubling. Another part was that success could only be achieved if he managed to balance public and personal life ; losing Jensen would be to admit he couldn't do both at the same time.

They ended up in each other's arms, of course, lovemaking almost violent and feelings heightened by their desperation. Jensen possessed Jared the way he did whenever they had been apart for too long, needy for sex and closeness.

"I love you," Jensen muttered in Jared's ear as he was fucking him relentlessly, affixing his mark again on Jared's very willing body.

"I love you too," Jared answered, trying to open himself always more for his lover.

They were sated as they broke apart, but when Jared declined spending the night with Jensen because of a previous invitation, it was clear the angry tension between them was far from resolved.

Their next meeting went even worse when Jensen realized that Jared had pushed him to make love but wasn't really up to it himself, and he certainly wasn't enjoying the fierce penetration right now.

"What happened to you ?" Jensen asked after one too many whimpers from Jared, looking horrified when he found traces of blood at the point where his cock and Jared's ass joined.

Jensen scrambled back after getting out of him gently.

"What happened ?" he repeated.

"Nothing," Jared tried to cover, standing up to put on his little blue satin nightgown, but Jensen's heavy stare forced him to go on. "I was hired by one of Jeff's former friends, one of the guys that used to have me during the weekends of fun. I wanted to show 'em all that even they have to pay now. You know, show who's the boss. It backfired."

"How so ?" Jensen prodded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"He took me to dinner, an expensive restaurant, and he was perfectly nice all along. But then he drove me back to his home, and there were three other former friends of Jeff's waiting for me. They did pay, all of them the same amount I had asked for one, but they took their turn with me during the whole night, and I'm a bit sensitive right now."

"Why didn't you tell me immediately ?"

"I thought you wanted to make love."

Jensen looked thunderous.

"I always do, Jared, because I love you. And because I love you, I never want to hurt you. Is that so hard to understand ? I'm not a client, I can be happy with spending time with you, just cuddling and kissing if you tell me you don't feel like having sex."

"I know," Jared admitted. "I know that, but after our dispute, I thought I couldn't help it."

Jensen retreated when Jared tried to touch him, holding his hands in the air to keep Jared at a distance.

"You made me feel like a monster. I'm your lover, the man who loves you. I don't need you to satisfy my sexual needs like any man who paid for it."

"I know," Jared said again, feeling just as much of a monster, "I'm sorry."

"Then why are you acting this way ? Are you afraid I'll write a bad article about you if you leave me ? Do you want me to be the one to call it off ? Would it make you feel better ?"

"No !" Jared yelled before he threw himself at Jensen's feet, face in his lover's lap and arms squeezing his thighs tight, as if to keep him there by force if needed.

It looked like those dramatic gestures Jared was wont to do with his clients to catch their attention, but it felt true in this moment and it answered the question for Jared just as well as Jensen. He looked up when Jensen caressed his hair and the relief he felt thanks to this simple gesture was mirrored perfectly by the one of his lover's face.

"I know you," Jared went on. "You wouldn't ever do something like that, because you're not petty, or vengeful. You just love with everything you are and I'm always afraid I can't give you back all that you deserve. Just…" he raised his hand to stop the words of denegation he could see coming on Jensen's lips, "just be patient with me. Please ?"

"I can have all the patience in the world where you are concerned. I just need you to be honest with me, and to love me too."

"I do, Jensen, you have to believe that I do, so very much."

The change had been subtle. So progressive that Jensen had been blinded at first. Jared had always liked to live in beautiful scenery, surrounded with precious furniture and colored walls, just like he wore exceptional and fashionable clothes no everyday man would ever dare to try on.

But this was something else entirely. Jared was showing off, telling the high society how rich and important he had become. Announcing – no, shouting from the top of the world – that he was someone to take seriously, someone to respect, because he had made it and lived in abject luxury.

Jensen had missed it because he hardly ever passed through Jared's work boudoir or bedroom. He appreciated too much knowing that Jared had put him in a different position from the very beginning of their relationship to need to be a part of the other side of his lover's life. It was so incredibly shortsighted of him. So stupid, after what Jared had been through with that asshole Morgan. He should have seen it coming, should have helped Jared negotiate the difficult passage from Morgan's quasi-slave to being his own man.

But then they hadn't seen each other that much in the previous months. Not even mentioning Jensen's own frequent and sometimes long travels for his job, Jared was always busy ; always a new client to satisfy completely, who came first because Jared needed the good review to prove he could make it out of Morgan's supervision.

Jensen had known about the men at work during the day in Jared's house, but their impact on him had more to do with the annoying noise of the hammers and the wax earplugs on Jared's nightstand. Jared had explained that the moth infestation had seemed to be the perfect opportunity to do a little bit of work on the old house and Jensen had accepted the logic of it, seeing no reason to worry about a little bit of remodeling. On the contrary, anything able to bring Jared joy, and oblivion of his darker past, added to the plus column in his book.

And so Jensen had voluntarily kept his eyes closed on any details or stories heard about Jared. Including Jared's wild, wicked parties.

The _Padarties_ had become the talk of the whole nightlife, the events everybody needed to be seen at. Misha insisted Jensen should come and see for himself. Jensen argued it was Jared's job and he really didn't need to see anything related to it, not after his unfortunate appearance at the wrong time in Jared's bedroom, but again Misha persevered.

"Put on a mask, and come only for a few minutes," he proposed. "I'm sure you'll find the experience interesting."

Very educational, indeed. An eye opener.

The party was in full swing when they came in. Jensen had donned a Zouave costume to hide his bowlegs and added a full mask on his face so that his lips or eyes wouldn't betray him. Misha looked the same, just as unrecognizable, and after they passed the Chadwick test at the door without difficulty, the valet accepting with a nod the special invitation card held by Jensen's friend, the other hired servants never were a threat.

Jared too had donned a military costume, but the effect was wholly different, for two very apparent reasons. Firstly, he wore sailor attire, obviously chosen to please the high-ranking officer standing next to him, an older, unmasked man that Jensen recognized easily as Admiral Pileggi, Minister of Marine for the past five years ; secondly, it was created to show off Jared's exceptional anatomy, partly baring his ass for all to see and grope.

Even though they didn't hide that much, Jared still had his pants on upon Jensen and Misha's arrival, a moment shy of midnight. It took only a few minutes before Jared was helped by his guests to stand on a table as men took banknotes out of their wallets to offer them in exchange for a strip-tease, to celebrate the beginning of a new day as well as a new month. Jared played coy for a little while, patiently waiting for more money to appear in the receptacle on the table. He turned around to show his butt a little more, enticing the attendants in being always more generous. Even Jensen was taken by the fever of the moment, ready to approach and pay and shout for more skin, kept apart only by Misha's hand on his arm.

Satisfied when the bowl was full, Jared suddenly took hold of his trousers by the belt and ripped them apart, leaving himself almost bared from waist to toe. The attendance went crazy at the view of his white and blue sexy underwear embroidered with marine anchors swirling around his balls, the cock sheath laced with a very thin rope knotted in a way clearly reminiscent of the kind you could find on a ship. Many hands came up to caress Jared's waxed legs, always trying to get high enough to reach his dick and balls hardly hidden under the light muslin.

Chadwick placed a second bowl on the table and took the first one away. Jared began to tease the men again with the first button of his short tunic. Jensen's heart felt constricted at the sight, wanting to see more and hating the men who had the right to touch his lover too. He needed to leave but just couldn't find the strength to do it.

Misha sensed his distress and pushed him out of the long dining room. They descended a monumental stairway, passed through splendid hallways and expensive rooms ; everywhere, the floors and walls resplendent with beautiful colors, malachite and marble, made Jensen feel small and inadequate in this unknown place. Even the parts still under construction or remodeling proved he was a stranger here, that a whole, growing part of Jared's life was forbidden to him.

On the contrary, it was soon obvious Misha knew his way in, taking Jensen swiftly in a direction he never deviated from, even when they found themselves in front of a pretty woman Jensen hoped wouldn't recognize him either : Sophia, Chadwick's wife and Jared's cook.

"Can I help you sirs ?"

"My friend needs the bathroom," Misha vaguely explained, "you know, too much alcohol."

And he went on without waiting for permission till they arrived in front of a double-door entrance that seemed quite outrageous for a simple bathroom.

Until you got into the room and took in the grandeur and eccentricity of the whole thing. It felt bigger than the dining room they had just left or any of the other rooms they had visited, and its middle was filled with the hugest bathtub Jensen had ever seen. Even Jared's green bathroom would feel small and needy next to this one. Stellian marble everywhere, three-headed taps disposed all along the edge of the tub, whatever the third one might be for. Aphrodisiacs maybe, or men's sperm, Jensen thought, a tad hysterically. The name bathtub itself felt ridiculously inappropriate. More like a pool, probably able to accommodate something between five and ten men, depending on the level of intimacy desired. And Jensen had no problem right now imagining the men a few rooms away, that he could still hear wildly cheering Jared to disrobe more and more, soaking with him in this tub, just as naked, taking turns to fuck him again and again.

"Come," Misha said, forcing Jensen out of his daydream, "you haven't seen everything yet."

Misha took him to climb the few steps on the side of the room. Sliding panels left this part open right now but could obviously turn it into a sauna. Misha and Jensen sat on the marble banks covered with thick cushions to admire the whole room. The unusual, elongated form of the tub clearly appeared to Jensen from this vantage point, and it was none other than Jared's slanted eye.

One could argue it was beautiful, but to someone knowing Jared as deeply as Jensen, it felt like the ultimate sign of the delusions of grandeur his lover seemed to abandon himself to since Jeff Morgan's death.

"I can't believe this," Jensen whispered.

"He needs you, Jensen, more than ever. He needs your love and understanding. I don't think he gets much of that from anyone else, not even himself."

"I don't know, Misha. I love him so much, but look what it did to him."

"What do you mean ?"

"All those things I did for Jared, taking him with me to Stellan for a much-needed vacation, getting rid of Morgan, because I wanted Jared free and happy, not scared all the time of what Morgan might do to him. I feel it all backfired and everything's worse, right now. He's lost his way, and I'm losing him at the same time.

"I don't necessarily see it like that. Think of it : he's like a young buck out of his parents' supervision for the first time. From the little you told me, it seems that Morgan was worse than the most intransigent father. So now Jared's wild, he needs to try everything to get a feel for life. Remember, Jensen, we've been like this too. Jared will come back to you but you have to be patient. Even if it might be painful at times. But you can't abandon him now, not after you set this process in motion."

"I'm not sure I can take it. I was able to ignore his clients when I felt he was happy with me but now… I'm not even second best. I'm a bother to him, a toy that used to entertain but that he has outgrown and doesn't find fun anymore."

"Aren't you dramatizing a bit ?"

"I don't think so."

"Then even if it's true, you have to decide if you love him enough to take the risk to wait for him."

"That’s not really a decision. I'm pathetic, but I don't know that I could do anything else."

Jared asked for Jensen's presence two days after his latest event, unsettled by the news shared by Chadwick's wife.

"So… Sophia said you were here the other night ? At my party in Admiral Pileggi's honor ?"

"How did she recognize me ? She didn't mention my name then."

"She said not even those baggy Zouave pants could hide such a fine backside as yours enough that she could not recognize it anytime, anywhere."

"Seems like the girl has better taste than her marrying Chadwick would normally imply."

Jared laughed but it was strained.

"Why did you come to the party, Jensen ? And why didn't you tell me ?"

"Misha thought I needed to see for myself one of those infamous Padarties. And he showed me around the property, which you had obviously forgotten to do, unless you were waiting for the work around here to be done ?"

"Don't be mad at me," Jared pleaded. "I knew what you'd think about it, that's why I didn't show you any of it. But it's only for my job, Jensen. It doesn't mean anything, I haven't changed. Not where it matters. Not with you."

"I'm not mad, love. Just sad that you thought you couldn't trust me with all this."

"No, don't say that !" Jared launched himself at Jensen's neck and kissed him. "I trust you with all I have, but I didn't want to fight or justify myself. Not after Jeff. He kept me on such a tight leash, you have no idea. I needed to justify any improvement, any change, anything too pricy. I need to be my own master now."

"Alright," Jensen grunted as his arms closed around Jared's waist, "I get it. Just remember from now on that I may not agree with you at times but I'll always have your back."

"Thank you."

Jared kissed him again, longingly, then took Jensen's hand and led him towards another room. He observed Jensen closely as he discovered the huge solarium filled with plants of miscellaneous origins.

"This is definitely a welcome improvement to the old house," Jensen approved.

"I knew you'd like it here !" Jared rejoiced. "I had it made because of you."

"Really ? Then maybe we should christen it…" Jensen suggested, taking Jared in his arms again.

"We will, but first come and see this."

In a corner lit by the direct rays of the afternoon sun, a chaise longue draped with a satiny multicolored cloth faced an easel holding a mostly-finished painting. Jared gave Jensen time to take in the subject, a detailed rendition of an aroused Jared reclining in the nude on the nearby chaise, illuminated by the same rays streaming from the high windows of the solarium. The whole scene was beautiful, if he said so himself, provocative but never outrageous, most of all because of the lush and exotic plants surrounding Jared to enhance the feeling of innocent, primitive nature.

"Who's the artist ?" Jensen wondered, obviously charmed.

"Speight. He's been at it for six weeks already," Jared complained. "It seems done to me, but he assures me that it needs a little something more every time he gets me to pose for him."

"Well, who could begrudge him for inventing reasons to see you naked again and again ?"

Jared thought about it.

"You might be right," he recognized. "But I heard yesterday that Speight never feels like his paintings are done. Some even say that they've seen him retouching them in museums, right on the walls they're hung upon. Maybe I should have hired another painter."

Jensen laughed at the anecdote.

"I don’t know. I rather like his vivid style, and he's certainly not afraid to show you in your whole, huge glory. Obviously, you've got some nice fantasies going on there to put you in that state."

"Don't mock me !" Jared ordered with a slap on Jensen's arm.

"I promise I won't if I get my own Jared-in-the-nude painting to hang in my bedroom, right in front of my bed."

Jared tugged Jensen's hand to march him towards the chaise longue they needed to christen.

"That could be arranged," he accepted as they went, with the satisfied grin of the one who knew his lover was still attracted to him.

Only Jensen deserved to enjoy seeing him naked every day of his life for free. But Jared was not about to tell him yet that this very painting was intended as Jensen's next birthday gift.

Nor that it had worked just as predicted to make him forget about the house's modifications.

But Jensen was like a dog with a bone, chewing on it endlessly and never to be entirely distracted. He came back to the subject after supper, as soon as they entered Jared's old private room.

"Your bedroom doesn't feel lived in anymore. Are you still using it when I'm not here ?"

"Not as much," Jared admitted reluctantly. "The new rooms are so marvelous, and there's five new bedrooms, you know ? I love being able to change now and then, according my mood to the color theme."

"Would you like us to sleep somewhere else too ?"

Jared hesitated.

"I don't think so. There's something oddly comforting about keeping the tradition alive with you."

"Thanks for making me feel old and unattractive."

"Don't be silly, I didn't mean it that way. Some things need no improvement, they're perfect as they are. Like being with you."

Jared decided it was more than time to stop talking and to explore once again the sexy side of their relationship. He untied the belt keeping the two parts of his dressing gown together and showed himself wearing only one of Jensen's favorite pairs of underwear. His boyfriend's grin was all the reward he wanted.

"Since you attended my party, I wonder if you liked my costume back then ?"

He asked his question while stroking his sheathed cock, attractive siren rather than innocent sailor, eyes never leaving Jensen as his lover came closer.

"Certainly, I loved the red bobble on your hat," Jensen teased him.

"Just my bobble ?"

Jensen pushed him to lie on the bed.

"No, not just your bobble. You would have made the cutest sailor in the marine."

"I thought so. Too bad the sea is so far from the capital. I would have had a whole marine-themed wardrobe created just for me, to entice all those seafaring types."

Jensen knee-walked over Jared, gripping Jared's hands to get them above his head.

"Did you ever do any kind of military service ?"

"Almost. I got the convocation."

"And ?" 

"And I went to the address indicated. They took a look at me and then I was discharged."

"What for ?!" Jensen took offense for him.

"Have you seen me ? They knew I wouldn't ever make a passable fighter."

"I've seen you, and what I know is that, not even mentioning your sheer size, you're capable to withstand pain better than anyone else, including those military types, seafaring or ground-walking. What a crock of utter bullshit !"

"I didn't really mind, you know. I didn't care much about losing so many years of my life handling weapons or stuck on unpalatable duties. And then I imagine I wouldn't have been very welcomed in the barracks."

"I'd rather think you would have been very popular."

"Maybe, but for all the wrong reasons. The company's whore."

"Don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you would have shown them all who you really are sooner or later, and I'm not talking about sex. I know for a fact that every time you put your mind to achieving a goal, you succeed. Your life followed another path, but you could have been a formidable warrior. This is not your lover speaking here, this is the journalist, and the former soldier."

Jared wrapped his arms and legs around Jensen and kissed him senseless.

Even in Jensen's arms, Jared kept feeling antsy. This solo business affair sure wasn't what is was all cracked up to be !

The latest client he had chosen, far from imagining the man could pose any kind of threat to him, had proved to be the most difficult one Jared had ever had to deal with. Mr. Armstrong, as he wanted to be called at all times – and particularly in bed – was an influential banker who, because of his bourgeois, provincial roots and extremely short stature, demanded constant signs of respect from the people he worked with. He drove a hard bargain and was paranoid at the best of times.

"If we are to be seen together," he'd said to Jared on their first encounter, "you'll stop with this make-up nonsense and the frivolous outfits. All black from shoulders to toes, save for a white shirt, as befits a gentleman of my standing. Also, you will talk only when addressed and will refrain from lewd suggestions, just as you'll show the proper amount of respect due to my person by calling me Mr. Armstrong on any and all occasions."

Armstrong had stopped for a minute, as if to ascertain that Jared was indeed capable of keeping quiet.

"Now for my most important will : our contract binds you to me in an exclusive manner. You will not congress with any other client, man or woman, for the duration of our affair. Is that understood ?"

"This is not a problem, Mr. Armstrong. My clients always get my full attention and loyalty, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to be at your disposal in any way you see fit."

"Very well. Then sign on the dotted line."

Jared had been taken aback by the document pushed his way.

"You want me to sign an official agreement ?"

All his previous contracts had been verbal. He probably should have felt safe that this man wanted to make everything legal but, for some reason, Jared had thought it didn't bode well with him.

"I do," Armstrong had insisted. "This document says that you will get a part of the sum we agreed upon for each moment we'll spend together, and that nothing further will be owed to you in case of a breach of contract by your doing."

"What about a breach of contract on your side ?"

"It seems very unlikely."

"Maybe today, but say you have to leave the capital… or you want to make a deal with another courtesan."

"You are right. Let's amend the contract. In case of my breaching of our agreement, the full remaining sum will be transferred to you on the last day of our deal."

Jared had thought he was so cunning. Reality taught him that no amount of money could make this deal a good one.

As it turned out, being in Armstrong's mind at the very bottom of the social ladder, Jared was really under strict rules to never speak out of turn. Even, at times, to never speak at all. Once in the master's bedroom, he was to disrobe immediately and assume the position on all fours on the bed without moving, however long he had to wait for his client to appear.

Then Jared had to rely on his acting chops to look like he was enjoying himself while _Mr. Armstrong_ was fucking him, because his technique was just as boring and stilted as the man himself. Meeting after meeting, the client penetrated him after a perfunctory preparation (with gloves, to ensure that he would not get his precious fingers dirty), and then launched into a frantic ballet of move in and retreat that did nothing to arouse Jared at all. Jared's one-time suggestion that they try it differently was met with ten harsh stings of a brutal cat-o'-nine-tails that kept him quiet afterwards.

After all, he was handsomely remunerated for his patience. As long as he was constantly thanked for it, Armstrong was as generous with his money as he was petty and dull in the bedroom, one of the worst show-offs Jared ever had the displeasure to work for. No one had to know that money was really the only good thing to come out of this deal.

Not even Jensen, who always did his best to make Jared forget about everything else, and surely made him see stars pretty much every time he was buried deep inside Jared's ass.

Jensen also had a way to make him feel desirable for so much more than sex, particularly when they settled side by side to talk whenever they didn't fall asleep after love, but his news wasn't always something Jared wanted to hear.

"I hope to be back in a few days," Jensen added after he announced his departure for the next day, "but I can't be sure exactly how long it will take. The boss is sending me to cover the miners' strike in the southwest."

"A strike ? What's so important about it that he'd want you there ?"

"I asked for this assignment, in fact. It's not just a simple strike. The chain of events is the proof that the Republic is on its way, Jared. I have to be there ! Read my next articles and you'll know everything about it."

"I love it when you get so passionate," Jared smiled. "Do you really have no idea how long you will be gone ?"

"Could be over in two days, or in two months, there's no telling with that kind of situation. But don't hesitate to write anyway, you know I always look forward to your letters."

Jensen kissed him lovingly, and Jared melted against him.

"I'll come see you as soon as I'm back," Jensen said, his hands caressing Jared's sweaty back. "Promise me to take care of yourself while I'm not here to make sure you're okay."

"I promise," Jared murmured, even though he felt afraid for the first time to let Jensen go. For an undetermined period of time, moreover.

He kissed Jensen again, ready for round two.

Jared's mood was in perfect tune with his depressingly black suit as he arrived at Armstrong's. This way of dressing felt more and more like a huge sacrifice, the negation of everything that made him someone courted left and right, the part of his personality Jared had never needed to hide before. He didn't understand his client's purpose in changing him that much. Armstrong didn't even show him off exactly in receptions. People knew they slept together, but that was it. Armstrong never talked to him, expressing clearly that his interest in Jared didn't reach beyond sex and sacrificing to the obligatory fashion among rich men to spend money on a lauded courtesan.

Annoyance added to confusion pushed Jared to dare a little bit every day, especially after seeing Jensen. Today, it meant he had donned a white shirt edged with light blue and gold embroideries at the collar and cuffs as well as along each seam, embroideries copied on the black jacket and trousers. He wore no make-up but his hair was tied in a loose ponytail by a satin ribbon decorated with the same pattern. Depending on his mood, Armstrong may let this pass without a word or not. Jared tried not to care as he thought of Jensen's indestructible faith in him and he stood straighter when he entered the house.

Armstrong was in a bad mood. It became obvious after Jared was brought by his valet to stand in front of the master's desk, like a schoolboy about to be punished by the principal for cheating during a test.

"You whore ! I told you I wanted exclusivity and you agreed," Armstrong barked.

"I agreed and I did it. I've had no other client since we've been together."

"Really ? What about Ackles, then ?"

Jared felt all the blood drain from his face. Armstrong stood up to come in front of him, far too close, and for all their height difference, Jared thought he was the fragile one here.

"Jensen Ackles is not a client. He's…" his voice died, looking for a word that would qualify Jensen's part in his life without condemning him in front of his client.

"Yes, Jared, why don't you tell me what a man visiting your house at night and staying until morning is to you ?"

"He's a friend, nothing more."

"I find that very hard to believe, Mr. Padalecki. Two beautiful young men, together in the same bed all night, naked, and they don't fuck like rabbits ?"

Jared flinched. They had been spied upon, it was obvious. And Armstrong using swear words meant his anger was deep-seated ; probably had been simmering for a while. Jared had to control the situation, now.

"I assure you. Jensen's nothing. He's no danger for you. Not to our contract, anyway."

The words negating Jensen's importance in his life were painful, and they felt like the lie they were. The lie that was probably written all over his face, judging by Armstrong disbelieving look.

"You're a terrible liar, Jared. And you're going to pay for what you did, the lie and the breach of confidence. You're going to pay willingly."

Jared tried not to back away but his feet could not be commanded. Armstrong followed, as far as Jared went, and then Jared's courage abandoned him. He nodded, ready to accept his punishment. He had been cheating, after all. He deserved his client's anger and the retribution for breaking their contract.

"Very well. I can see that you have, at the very least, a backbone. Now strip !"

Jared obeyed without a word, without a thought, sensing his own vulnerability rise with every piece of clothing shed.

In the end, he tried to stand naked as proud as possible, but only felt small and unworthy. He hadn't been in this mind place since the very first months of prostituting himself, before he decided to embrace the life and lead his existence rather than being forced along. He didn't understand why he was sent so many years back, why this client, after so many others Jared had controlled easily, had the power to make him feel so little and unable to fight back.

A servant came right after Armstrong rang, who gathered Jared's clothes and took them away, before he soon brought back, as ordered, his master's riding crop. Then he stood there, next to Armstrong, his eyes never leaving Jared's naked body.

"Hemsworth is here to make sure you won't renege on your word. I assure you, he knows how to fight and subdue a man, even one of your freaky size."

The manservant had short dirty-blond hair, a bit like Jensen, and just like him he was also probably former military, considering his demeanor. But the resemblance stopped there. His height was closer to Jared's, who had no problem believing Hemsworth would be able to restrain him in no time, should he try to escape now, and yet his ominous presence made the idea of fleeing very alluring.

Jared might have a backbone, it didn't mean he enjoyed pain. Or being hurt and humiliated in front of a witness. It had been painful enough with Chadwick ; an unknown servant would make it just that much more excruciating to stand there and take it.

"Very well," Armstrong said, "turn around and put your hands on the top shelf. I want you to leave them there for the duration of the punishment. If you take them off once, the number of hits I intend to lay on your ass will be multiplied by two. Twice, and the new number will be multiplied by two again. Three times, and not only will you get the full punishment again from the beginning, tied and unable to move, but you'll be thrown out the minute it's done with no further wage. Do you understand ?"

"I do, sir."

"Let's begin, then."

Jared had been whipped more than once in his life as a prostitute, but he had never willingly submit, forced only by Jeff's orders to play along. And God ! Armstrong might be short, it didn’t mean he was in any way weak or impotent.

He endured, the lashing of the crop streaking his ass, thighs and back more painfully with each hit. He could only hope that Armstrong would remember he had agreed to no permanent mark on Jared's body, whatever the circumstances ; that he had signed on it.

He endured even more when Armstrong decided to take him right after the punishment was over. Hemsworth walked Jared to the master's bedroom and installed him on the bed as Jared was already used to, staying right beside to ensure he still wouldn't try to get away. Armstrong mounted him then, without the slightest ounce of care for Jared's throbbing backside. He mounted him and fucked him senseless, probably the best sex Jared had ever had from him since they signed the contract.

Jared couldn't care less if Armstrong was alighted by Jared's submission or by the whipping.

All he wanted was to go back home and lick his wounds in private.

Jared hesitated, swinging widely from pros to cons, before he showed up again at Armstrong's door a few days later. Had Jensen been around, his lover would have probably talked him out of offering himself to the possibility of more humiliation and hurt. But Jared had no one but himself to rely on at the moment, and the will to conquer his fear, to master his destiny.

He could do this. He would make it work.

A part of him wished to confront Armstrong, to show at his reception in a bright yellow-and-orange outfit and his sexiest underwear, but it certainly wasn't worth the trouble. Better do his work without a word, grab all the money they had agreed on, and never come back for more once the nightmare was over. There were many more fishes in the pond who would be delighted to be caught in Jared's network of seduction as soon as he was free to throw it at large again.

At Armstrong's request, Jared arrived one hour before the reception so that his client could fuck him again, slow and boring as he enjoyed the most. At least there was no Hemsworth this time to stare at them with his impassive, inexpressive face that chilled Jared to the bone.

As he was getting ready for dinner, Jared found in his trouser pocket a pair of his sexy underwear that he certainly didn't remember putting there. Which meant Chadwick had done it. His valet had never been happy with Jared's choice about Armstrong, repeating that if the boor wanted Mr. Average to fuck, he shouldn't have hired Jared at all, but he was downright enraged at him since his master had come home after the whipping. He had wished many times for Jensen's return, to give the midget the beating he deserved, and made many more or less covert remarks about Jared's distressing change of personality in Armstrong's service.

Jared smiled at Chadwick's small reminder of Jared's true nature. The lingerie was so pretty, one of Jensen's favorites, pale blue and green lace leaving his ass in plain view and opening, corolla-style, with a tie in the front to free his cock to his lover's touch. Wearing it tonight would help him to go on, the thought of Jensen's love always with him when Armstrong would take pleasure in belittling his intelligence in front of his friends.

He made up his mind and quickly disrobed again to change the plain white underwear he had donned earlier for the pretty, sexy little things he loved. He could always pretend he had run out of clean white-and-boring undergarments.

Feeling stronger for this act of defiance, Jared left the bedroom for the reception. The evening consisted of a four-hour, eight-course, very formal dinner that Armstrong described as if he had been the one slaving over the oven all day long to satisfy his guests.

Most of those guests were awfully dull sycophants, old enough to be Jared's parents, hung-up and straight-laced enough to nod politely at Jared's small talk and then turn immediately to some other invitees, probably to avoid contamination by airborne or hopping crabs or clap.

Well, Jared was going to avoid contamination by depression. Armstrong's cellar was reputed all over the capital and if no one was interested in his conversation, Jared would put his mouth to a better use and sample liberally the delicious wines offered all through the dinner.

Jared drank beyond reason, wondering with each glass what he was doing here exactly. Why he was selling himself to someone who couldn't appreciate any of his efforts and talents, who despised everything he was, who turned him into something charmless and pitiful.

Jensen had only been gone a few days, but Jared longed so much for his lover already. Jensen was never boring, and he always asked for Jared's opinion. He made him feel brilliant, imaginative, sensual and beautiful. He made him feel so loved, when here he was nothing more than a fashion accessory, one of the means in Armstrong's plan to impress the capital and stand bigger by walking all over him.

Jared drank some more and the reception became sufferable. He stopped caring if the persons sitting next to him ignored his attempts at communication. He drank and ate, and life felt good again.

He was less than stable on his two feet when men were invited to the salon for liquors. His thoughts felt pretty incoherent but he realized, with a gap of a few seconds at most, that Curtis' harsh look meant he was not welcome. He let himself fall back in his chair and kept sipping the wine, hurt as much as relieved to be stuck with the women when the conversation became lighter and funnier, and Jared was not rebuffed anymore. He smiled to see the blush spreading on the older women's cheeks as he flirted with them and felt like himself again.

The after-dinner was more entertaining but Jared had drunk too much to understand he should stop and measure the rising level of his voice. He didn't even see his client standing next to him until he was well into the story of the king of a distant country who had traveled this long distance and offered rivers of diamonds to sleep with him. Jared had turned him down after learning (from Jensen) that the man had decimated many of his people to access the throne.

"What do you think, Curtis ?" Jared asked, trying to avoid mumbling his words. "Should I have worked for him anyway in your opinion ?"

An iron fist closed around his wrist.

"I thought I was very clear when I said you were to call me Mr. Armstrong at all times."

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry, I think I've drunk more than I should've."

"I don't care about your reasons, Mr. Padalecki. I should have known better than to think a whore could behave in public."

"Please, Mr. Armstrong…" Jared whined, bending to follow the ever tighter and more hurtful grip on his wrist.

"You shut up, and stop embarrassing me in front of my friends with your indecent stories, is that clear enough this time?"

"Yes, sir, I apologize."

"You really think apologizing is going to cut it ? Especially after your previous faux-pas ?"

Even in his inebriated state, Jared heard the menace loud and clear. He took a step backwards, trying to break free and ready to flee.

"Hemsworth !" his client called, and the servant appeared next to his boss in less than three seconds.

"Sir ?" he enquired.

"Take Mr. Padalecki to the library, and tie him where he was beaten the other day. Naked, of course. Then wait for me."

"Yes, sir, as you wish."

Another painful grip on his arm forced Jared out of his prostration. He followed Hemsworth like a rag doll, head down to avoid the further humiliation of seeing the party guests laughing at him.

With a small but nasty smile, Hemsworth disrobed him completely, showing to everyone the sexy and quite indecent little underwear Jared had donned against all orders before he threw them in the fire at his master's order. Then he was tied to the bars securing the bookcase to the wall, rope so tight that the blood flow became difficult, his fingers soon tingling.

Jared was given no chance to show his backbone this time, and it might have been better as wine made his fight or flight reflex twice as virulent as usual. He couldn't decide if the weird sensation of being watched by hundreds of eyes was a simple hallucination due to inebriation and fear, or if Armstrong had somehow conjured a huge audience to make his humiliation complete. Either way, he was fucked, and not in the fun way.

His reputation would never recover from such a blow. He would be the butt of everyone's joke – pun very intended – and no one would ever pay again for his skills. All hopes killed by his own greediness, taught too well by Jeff that money justified all compromises of principles.

"I strongly suggest that you don't talk or even whimper, Mr. Padalecki," Armstrong threatened before he began. "Otherwise, I'll have to let my guests take a turn at the whip. Is that understood ?"

Jared nodded. He kept silent throughout the whole, long whipping.

He gritted his teeth, and tears ran down his cheeks. Maybe Jensen would still love him when everyone else would turn their backs on him, laughing.

He passed out with the pain.

He woke up in a small but pristine room. The opened window, carrying the promise of spring inside with the bird songs that had partly awakened him, also let in the scents of a fresh and new day, and the prolonged silence – no human voice chatting away, even in the distance – told him he was not in the capital.

"Where am I ?" he asked as he turned his head to look at the forty-something, sturdy woman applying a very greasy cream on his naked back, buttocks and thighs.

Her answer left a lot to be desired, for it was complete, foreign gibberish that made no sense to him. He couldn't even place her origin, so he let it go and gave himself back to the feeling of her massaging hands, unable to resist the call of sleep.

He woke up next to the sound of the door opening. A man entered, one he thought he recalled from the last, disastrous reception at Armstrong's. Dark hair, frame harmonious if not tall, pleasant face although his expression might be considered a tad condescending. They had been introduced, Jared recalled. A prince or something, from some eastern country with confusing spelling, but the guy's name eluded him right now. They hadn't talked either, the prince seated right next to Armstrong during dinner, as guest of honor, while Jared was relegated at the end of the table. He could only remember the aristocrat's hungry gaze that night, and Armstrong's surprising silence at the way his mouth had seemed to taste Jared's hand in greeting. Probably some important client the banker needed to spare, important enough to impress him with the infamous courtesan he bedded, only to keep them apart afterwards to make sure the whore would respect their contract ; so important that Jared couldn't see any other reason to explain Armstrong's over the top reaction to his faux-pas.

But it didn't explain why the prince-or-something was here now, sitting next to a bedridden, stark-naked Jared, smiling when he realized his eyes were open. At ease enough for one of his hands to begin tracing imaginary lines on his back.

Jared shuddered, anticipating pain, but the hand avoided his wounds, circling around them as if following already-drawn arabesques tattooed on his skin with his blood and pain.

"I'm King Hal, first of the House of Ozsan," the man said while he took the jar of cream from the nightstand to rub some of it onto Jared's wounds. "Welcome back to the land of the living. The drug you've been administered to sleep might have you searching for your memories and words for a little while yet. I'm going to tell you what happened recently but feel free to ask any questions, even the ones that might seem unimportant, alright ? So you're here with me because I wished to get to know you a lot better the moment we met. After Curtis calmed down that night, I talked him into passing your contract on to my care. You had fainted by then, and I had my people bring you to my home, before my personal doctor took care of you. We've kept you asleep since then, to ensure that your body would use its whole energy to heal, and we traveled here to benefit from the countryside's fresh air. This cream I'm using is my mother's recipe, to be applied on your welts many times a day, and I expect you'll get very minimal scarring from the whipping. Maybe even not at all if we keep at it for the next few months."

Hal's words all tended to collide inside Jared's fuzzy skull. He had been forced asleep and unable to defend himself for God knew how many days. He was presently somewhere unknown, at the complete mercy of this man who, as nice as he appeared to be, could reveal himself to be a dangerous lunatic and seemed rich and powerful in ways granting that everyone obeyed him. No one knew of Jared's whereabouts. Not even Jensen, one of the very few persons to really care for him.

"Where am I ?" he asked again, needing to know how easily he could make a run for it.

"One of my domains, down in the south of the country, one of those places where you meet history with every step you take. I'll give you the grand tour later, when you're fit to walk. There's a stunning view over the valley and I look forward to taking you there, under the stare of the hawks that they call royal here."

Relieved that he was still in the country, Jared ignored Hal's proprietary comment to snort at the irony that might have brought him closer to Jensen than he had been in a long while. Jensen who was maybe worried about Jared's epistolary silence but had no idea that his lover had been sold to a new client who may prove better or not than the crazy one Jared was so glad and relieved to be rid of.

This part of Hal's speech suddenly resonated in his muddled brain. Armstrong had just about sold him to another client without Jared ever being asked about it. Armstrong had acted as Jared's pimp.

The thought itself had him freeze and break into a sweat.

He should be running away, asserting his independence again, showing this man he wasn't at his beck and call, a sex slave for his court or his harem back home, wherever home might be for the king.

But he felt so tired, discouraged. Humiliated. Pretty sure that no other client than Hal Ozsan would ever be interested in him again after the distasteful display at Armstrong's reception. Maybe he could take the time to heal, to find his footing anew and plan for his career, in a luxurious environment, in the care of a rich client ready to wait for Jared to feel better before any fucking happened.

The fucking indeed happened, probably sooner than Jared would have wished, but not before the local doctor, an odd little man with a sing-song accent, bowless eyeglasses and huge muttonchops, proclaimed his back healed enough to live and dress normally. Except no real dressing was planned. Not even when Jared left the house and followed Hal to the promontory he had been told about, some one hundred meters over the river, and the precipice made him feel almost as nauseous as the drugs he could still taste in the depth of his throat.

Hal took off of him the flimsy négligé his seamstress had created during Jared's long sleep, along many other sexy clothes and underwear, and replaced it with the warm embrace of his eyes to admire him as promised, naked against the clear blue sky of the wild countryside. He let his hands wander around Jared's whole body, strong and proprietary, before he bent Jared over the parapet to rim him lingeringly, languorously, more enticingly than anything they had already done in the previous days, light touching and lazy making out, foreplay for the sake of being close and taking pleasure in caressing another man's body.

Lost between heaven and earth, eyes closed to ignore the void beneath, Jared felt his desire surge anew at last, cock pointing to the sky as Hal impaled him for the very first time. His thrusts began slow and short, punctuated by Hal's low voice telling him about the battle that had taken place on the river below some three hundred years before. The clash of arms, the cries of men, fire and water, bravery and cowardice, victory and defeat, incredibly arousing words that got more epic and the sex more violent as the tale of the battle drew to its climax.

Every morning from then on, Hal and Jared met on the promontory, and Jared learned once again to see the beauty of his own body through his client's eyes. Distractions far and few in this uneventful province, their time was well spent fucking like rabbits. Even after Hal reached his own limit, he still enjoyed playing with Jared's body, bringing him to an almost release only to keep him there, walking the edge of another type of precipice, but one that Jared knew better how to deal with.

They drove around in an open cab, visited castles and abbeys, and everywhere Hal found a perfectly valid reason to take Jared aside, in a room alone, to fuck him again. Between cocktails and receptions in Hal's honor, under the tearful eye of a Pietà or in front of the unusual and seductive impression of a grey and gold grisaille, Hal kept on fucking him all around the region.

"I guess the rumor of our liaison has reached my country," Hal announced one day. "My brother just wrote and it seems he's jealous, enough to visit us. I want you at your most beautiful, love."

"Don't call me that," Jared rebuffed him immediately. "Love has to mean something, don’t trivialize that word."

Explaining that Jensen was the only person allowed to speak to him this way was both useless for Hal and painful for Jared.

"You're right. Would sweetheart be more to your liking ?"

Hal could be disarmingly sweet and charming, however masterful he proved in the bedroom. He didn't seem to find it contradictory to show respect for Jared in his words, sometimes even tenderness, and next fuck him senseless in front of his staff or his guests. His stamina was tiring, even to someone ten years younger. And his much younger brother proved to be made of the same stuff as soon as he arrived.

In no time, Jared found himself serving the two brothers at once. His tiredness increased with the need to put on a non-stop show for both his clients and Jared quickly nurtured a deep dislike of the younger man, who seemed to hold a grudge against the whole world for being a mere prince because of his birth date, cursing the universe that didn't make him the ruling king in his big brother's stead. Hal was oblivious to Roman's jealousy, doting brother who wanted his younger sibling to experience all the good things in this life and make the most of it, especially where Jared was concerned.

"I've always wanted to give double penetration a try," Hal declared on their first day all together, "but none of the whores I bought inspired enough confidence in me to do it. None of my more regular dates either. And there's also the problem of the second penetrator. But with you and my brother, I know I've found the perfect team."

"Does it mean ?..." Jared suddenly worried. "You want me to take you both at the same time ?"

It might have been strange that after so many years of prostitution Jared could still find himself unbalanced by the idea of a particular sexual act. But this was something Jeff had never forced on him, and Jared had been too afraid of the consequences of such an act turned wrong that he had avoided the experience at all costs.

"Don't worry, Jared, you'll be handsomely rewarded. Double client, double the price."

It was the end of the negotiations on Hal's side, and Jared still felt too fuzzy-headed with the excess of wine and liquors during the previous night to listen to the alarm in his head reminding him why he had never accepted that kind of game before.

Double the price was a good thing. Right ?

It justified all the pain and the jibes, his self-respect going down the drain along with every taunt Hal's brother used to mock him. Unpolished despite his royal upbringing, so sure of himself thanks to the certainty of youth to always know better, Roman was the worst kind of brat : the one who thought fortune, power and birth excused everything.

The one certain that a whore's only right was to shut up and endure while they earned their money.

Jared could have been seduced ultimately by the idea of being taken by Hal and Jensen at the same time. The men were without contest his best lovers, for an assemblage of reasons that married technique, thoughtfulness and seduction. But Roman was neither his type nor talented enough to erase his worries. He wouldn't even consider imitating his brother's prowess and learning by watching, too focused on proving his own mastery.

Unable to lose himself entirely as usual in the endless sky looking down on the promontory, Jared felt old next to Roman. He couldn't remember ever being so stupid and full of himself. He didn't want to feel the prince's fingers pushing past his rim to prepare him for the frightening fucking about to occur. He didn't want to feel his other hand all over his skin, twisting his nipples or jerking his cock. Even the sound of his voice became grating in a very short time, his bon mots crude and distasteful.

"Too bad my fingers are too short to find your own promontory," Roman whispered in Jared's ear while he worked three of them inside him.

"What are you talking about ?" Jared panted, mind blank with arousal at Hal's more exciting ministrations on his cock.

"Your promontory ? The bone in your ass, right after the sacrum ? Tell me you've heard about it !"

Roman couldn't see his eyes rolling but he probably realized all the same that Jared still had no clue about his pun.

"I'm disappointed, brother. I thought this was a first class courtesan. Good thing the bitch is pretty, because he's kind of dumb."

"Roman !" Hal chided him without ever ceasing to stroke Jared's dick. "This bitch is offering himself to you, so you'd better show some appreciation for the gift. Respect is paramount between a prince and his subjects, and it goes both ways."

"You're right, Sire, of course. Jared, my apologies."

It sure was the most insincere apology Jared had heard in a long time, but Roman forced himself into more considerate behavior anyway, and Jared was pretty sure he would stick to it for the remainder of his stay after such a rebuff.

Impatient to go on with this double penetration he had fantasized about so badly, Hal took over the preparation, making sure to stretch Jared well and long enough to reduce the possibility of tearing to a minimum. For the same reason, he offered to Roman to go first, preferring to control the second, more dangerous part of the experiment.

Jared feared his own apprehension far more than the acclimation of his body already used to seeing a lot of action. He hardly noticed Roman sliding into him, getting a feel for Jared's body with a few thrusts aiming for his prostate. His technique may not be bad in itself, but it lacked the finesse of Hal's and it didn't care for Jared's pleasure in any other way than showing off through Jared's cries of bliss.

Jared's prostate wanted this, his mind already imagining the incredible pleasure he could get from not just one dick but two, hitting there constantly, together if possible or one right after the other. He didn't know, and he really didn't care. He urged Hal to stop with his fingers already and get in with his cock, reveling in the burning stretch of his muscle.

For the first time in his life, he arrived at a deep understanding of the weird pleasure found in pain as Hal slid inside along his brother. He cried for more and begged to stop in the same breath, crazy and drunk on sensations heightened to inhuman levels. He felt like falling from the promontory down to the river, experience worth the prize even though he was sure to die in the end. He felt like the hawks flying high, critically observing the men's mating parade. He felt stuck in a body far too small despite his size to host two lovers at a time.

Kissed and caressed to the point of suffocating with lust, his awareness still never left his rim, stroked again and again by the shafts holding him open. Each man in turn came closer to Jared, to gather more strength before every thrust and push him up or down in the other's embrace. Jared's cock, close to bursting, kept being pressured between Roman's stomach and his own every time Hal shoved him from behind. Even the sensation of being prisoner between the royal brothers, incapable to escape, enhanced his desire.

None of them were destined to hold out for long and Jared led the way, pushed beyond the edge by the two men ganging up on him to make sure he couldn't get down from his high for a long, long time.

Jared yawned quietly, Hal and Roman dozing on each side of his still-naked body, and tilted his head up to offer himself to the caress of the sun. He kept the pose for a while, happy to be free of expectations and duty for a few blissful minutes. Satisfying two clients at the same time, two virile and very demanding lovers, was taking its toll on his body. All the stunts he had pulled with Hal previously were now duplicated with a second man to entertain just as much as the first one, both in private and publicly. Their sleeping arrangement, a temporary ménage-à-trois, was probably known well outside the elusive frontiers of their castle and Jared doubted they fooled anyone they visited when they disappeared for at least a quarter of an hour, often more, only to reappear disheveled and smelly. But such was the world that, though Jared may get contemptuous looks, no disagreeable remarks ever criticized the king's attitude, nor his brother's.

In consequence, times to stand down and enjoy laziness were rare for Jared these days, and all the more appreciated. Times to break down and read the Gazette he had seen lying around for days without daring to touch it, to turn it to page four and look for an article written by a famous columnist of his acquaintance.

There was none in this edition.

He hadn't heard from Jensen for more than two months now, and maybe it was a sign. Sure, Jensen probably didn't know where he was, and with whom. To be honest, Jared preferred it that way. He had tried so hard to maintain the image of a classy escort, but year after year, month after month, Jensen had been a privileged witness to all of Jared's depravations. He had had to fight for him, putting his own life in danger, and Jared didn't have to think far to understand why their relationship had constantly deteriorated along with their latest encounters. Jensen could take no more pride in being his lover. Jared had seen it in his face, in the obvious pleasure at the idea of leaving to cover the miners' strike, far from Jared and their difficult understanding.

Jensen's life goal was to fight for the poor and the defenseless. Jared might be both of these after his return to the capital – he wasn't fool enough to imagine the tasteless display at Armstrong's would do any good to his reputation, or not to know that he would have to accept lesser dealings in the upcoming months in order to work at all – but he couldn't force Jensen to deal with this too. Nor could he afford to show sentimentalism when he took a client, and he would have to in order to spare his lover.

The time had come to end it with Jensen.

Maybe… maybe he could convince his lover to wait for him. Jensen had always been so understanding, so patient. Maybe he would agree to wait till Jared was ready to quit, to live his life on the side while Jared worked to make enough money, to make sure he would never lack for anything or depend on anyone else again.

Jared shook his head with derision. Jensen was understanding, true. But they were lovers. He had never asked that Jared stop working because they enjoyed a lot of good times together. Now what Jared imagined was far too much, a promise of love without exchange. Jensen was an ardent lover, a man in his prime who needed to make love, who deserved to be loved.

Jared had to resign himself and make this a clean cut.

Maybe they would meet again later, and maybe, if Jensen hadn't met and married someone else by that time, if Jensen didn't begrudge him for their separation, if Jensen still loved him… maybe they could give it another try.

Maybe more than a try, a real relationship, Jared totally Jensen's.

One day, when Jared was able to offer his undivided focus, body and feelings to one man, and one man only. Jensen.

Hal was feeling frisky and sharing today. Just like most days, really, and this party was nothing exactly new, save for the sheer number of visitors, endless parade of amorous gentlemen unwilling to bypass the opportunity to fuck a courtesan usually far away or too pricy for their own purse.

To spice things up, Jared had been used as a food decoration at first. Then as a table. Diverse scenes evolving after about half an hour, turning Jared this way or that, exposing his nudity in various fashions to encourage the guests to taste and touch the food as well as his body. And as the wine flowed, the shyest men in attendance lost their inhibitions to enjoy the very unusual orgy, first and maybe last moment of true decadence in their secluded lives.

Sex was boring, the image of one man melting into the next, the feeling of their dick in his ass just as underwhelming as the next one. Jared knew too well when to moan, cry, ask for deeper, harder, faster, how to ensure that all those men, all potential clients should they ever wander outside of their province up to the capital, left with the feeling that they were the best sex Jared had ever had in his entire career.

He wondered what Jensen was doing. Was he still in the south too, covering the miners' strike ? Dining alone, or with some friends ? With Misha, maybe ? Or that grizzly bear, Ty of the moustache so big that it got lost in his impressive sideburns, and who Jared had always thought was more than a bit in love with Jensen ?

Was he wondering why Jared had left for so long without a word ? Worrying ?

Then he quashed that thought ruthlessly. He had decided to end it. Thinking about Jensen was nothing but pure masochism. That way madness lies.

Boring was good. Boring meant no hurt or pain, no drama or dilemma. Boring was safe and it brought money.

The only fault he could find in his new client was this habit of his to pass him around. Sure, his wages grew exponentially with each new man allowed to fuck him thanks to Hal's generosity, but it was still a bit too close to Jeff's behavior for Jared's peace of mind.

Hal could see no problem with this way of living. He claimed to be a man of simple needs, and simple fun. He enjoyed seeing Jared in the throes of pleasure, offered to the hands of any willing person, and he quickly made plans to keep enjoying this for as long as possible.

Once his brother had left for their country, Hal didn't seem to mind getting back to his habit of fucking Jared all alone on the promontory. The day was fresh and grey, sky low and cloudy, when he talked Jared into leaving with him to become his permanent favorite.

"Think about it, Jared. The sweet life I could give you. No worries, no troubles. My palace at your disposition. My whole country. My people would love you, and no one could treat you like Curtis did."

"No one but you," Jared corrected.

"True, but you know that's not my style. I worship beauty, I don't try to destroy it."

It was distressingly tempting. The idea of being served at all times, pampered and coddled by a benevolent monarch. No decision to make, no high society to judge him, the easiest way to earn a lot of money. Hal was handsome and Jared had no feelings for him, which made him the perfect client.

Jared might be happy out there, but he was sure to lose himself. If he gave in, he would become again the Jared he had left behind with the memories of Jeff Morgan and his lack of self-respect. He had no right to do that after all he had endured to be free, after everything Jensen had done to make him the only master of his own life, and he would never forgive himself.

"I'm sorry, Hal. It's a very appealing offer, but I have to decline. I'm not the kind of flower you can put in a vase, I need real soil, and the freedom of open spaces to live my life. I've enjoyed our time together, but I feel it's come to a natural ending. I'll be heading back to the capital tomorrow if you don't mind, back to my real life."

Hal sighed his disappointment.

"I will regret your decision, no doubt about it," he said with a gentle caress on Jared's face, "but if this night is the last we spend together, I'm going to make the most of it. I want you naked in my bed until the moment of your departure."

Jensen's three months out of the capital had felt like a rejuvenating therapy, the sharing of ideals with like-minded people ready to go as far as needed to bring a fairer social order. The deep sense of camaraderie justified his long sojourn and explained why he hadn't really tried to find out why Jared had been entirely silent after only one letter. They probably both needed the time apart anyway.

Back home at last, and right after spending some re-bonding time with his daughter, Jensen's second act was to write a short letter to Jared to announce his return. He felt all the more troubled to know that Jared had not only stopped writing to him but that even Licia hadn't seen him in almost as long as Jensen had been gone.

The answer came two days later, a few laconic words to invite Jensen to join Jared for supper.

He was on his way, worries about seeing his lover again overwhelmed by impatience and desire, when he realized he was followed. One man first, then two, and finally, as he entered an alley deserted at this already late hour, he found himself surrounded by four pretty robust guys clearly looking for trouble.

"Gentlemen," Jensen turned around to welcome them, "something you needed to tell me ?"

He got ready for a fight, taking his cane in hand as a weapon, slowly turning upon himself to try and keep the four men in his line of sight and react as quickly as possible. It was not the first time he had found himself in this kind of situation but he generally knew his adversaries and the reason for the attack. He was going into this one totally blind.

"Mr. Armstrong sends a message," one of the guys announced. "He said to remember in hell not to touch what doesn't belong to you."

Jensen's mind went back to the time before his departure and Jared's client of the moment.

"Well, that's beautifully cryptic. Are we talking about Curtis Armstrong, the banker ? Who thinks my lover belongs to him because of his money ? A man so brave he uses goons to settle his disagreements ? But stupid enough to make himself known to the one he's attacking ?"

"Don't worry about that, you won't be here anymore to rat on him once we're done with you."

"I'm afraid I don't care much for your scenario. I'm going to have to make a few changes."

Jensen hadn't finished distracting the men before his cane flew and the knob hit the gang leader right on his temple. The man went down and the others' stupefaction allowed Jensen to punch a second guy and knock him unconscious before they retaliated.

Two to one was much better odds in a fight. Still it was not an easy brawl by any means. The two remaining men defended themselves furiously. They had no technique to speak of, but probably a lot of experience in bar fights and the numerical advantage.

Jensen hit left and right, used his adversaries' faults to his benefit, but thought once or twice he wouldn’t make it, especially when one of the guys managed to hold his arms behind his back for the other one to pummel him hard and fast. Face, stomach, then face again, and Jensen's only chance was to play dead.

It worked splendidly, Jensen sliding to the ground and then using his legs to get one of the men down before he stood again and took on the other one. A direct blow to his right clavicle almost sent him down once more but Jensen kept fighting, supported all along by the idea that Jared was waiting for him, that he needed his protection and now was the time to prove he would never let anything bad happen to him without consequence.

He felt more worried about his lover than anything, wondering if the long silence was due to a severe beating against which Jared had no defense. Jensen should have taken the time to train him, show him how to fight, how to use his formidable size and power to block punches and hit back. Jensen knew Jared had it in him, Nemec as a perfect example, but four men were too much to take for a novice. Once again, he had been remiss in overlooking Jared's safety, even though he could tell Jared was not happy with his departure.

The second man came back into the fight but his blows were not as strong, probably because of the hard fall on his head. Jensen managed to get him down for good a few seconds later with a kick to the privates that sent him tumbling, howling his pain to the moon. Jensen would have felt for him if he didn't have another man still intent to put him into an early grave.

He searched for a resurgence of power, gathered all he could find deep inside himself, forgot how short his breath had become and the numerous pains all along his body. His mind went half-numb but his fists hardened and hit twice more than they let his opponent's pass. He ignored how tired he felt to punch endlessly, nothing in sight but the desire to win.

He didn't realize the noise he could hear was the whistle of the policemen running to control the situation at last. Four of them were necessary to pull the fighters apart. They were both just as bloody – the other guy's eyes were almost shut because of Jensen's blows while his own right arm suddenly fell as he took in the terrible pain of his clavicle again – but Jensen had no doubt that they would have kept on fighting till one of them went down for the count.

It took a few minutes for the police to come up with a cart to pile the unconscious men on and listen to Jensen's story. His clothes were in as bad a state as himself but they clearly showed him as belonging to a higher level of society than his attackers and the sergeant who wrote down Jensen's statement didn't question his version. Jensen's reputation probably helped, in this and the diligence with which a doctor was fetched to look to his wounds. His clavicle was declared unbroken but the ligaments torn and Jensen was equipped with a sling to wear as long as needed until the pain had abated.

As he awkwardly shook his left hand goodbye, the sergeant offered to have him driven home. Jensen accepted the offer for a carriage but he asked the driver to take him to his friend Ty. It was time to get information.

Just like Misha, Ty was an old army comrade segued into a lifelong friend, but the only one of them who had remained in the military. Before he left for the southwest mines, Jensen had tasked him with taking note of Jared's whereabouts and protecting him if necessary.

Nicely surprised to find him on his steps, Ty opened his door and his arms to Jensen. He inquired about his pitiful state and took him quickly to sit at the table, asking his people for a light meal and a strong brandy that Jensen enjoyed as Ty summed up for him the events of the past months.

"Ty, tell me Jared is safe."

"As far as I can tell, he is. But Jensen, I haven't been around at all times. You remember the drills, the maneuvers and all that shit. I did ask for one of my men to keep an eye on him in my stead but there was nothing he could do when Jared disappeared for a while."

"Disappeared ?!"

"Yeah. First, Armstrong had him naked and very publicly whipped for some offense that was probably just an excuse for a gratuitous display of power, and then Jared went missing. It had already happened by the time I was back in the capital and it took me a few days before I could find out he was recuperating with another client, a King Hal the Third, somewhere in the south. Not far from you, in fact. One of my friends, who's posted close enough, went for a reconnaissance, to make sure Jared was well treated. I don't think you want to know the details, but rest assured that he didn't seem incapacitated anymore."

"It felt wrong to leave," Jensen remembered, head bent to hide his shame at abandoning his lover. "I should have asked him to come with me, or find a way to stay."

"And after that ? Jensen, I get that you love the man, and I think I can even understand why, but you can't turn your whole life around for him. He wouldn't thank you for it. And he's fine."

"When did he come back ?"

"A few days ago."

So Jared had been there and he chose not to answer Jensen's letter right away.

"But he hasn't been seen anywhere since then," Ty continued. "Methinks something's on his mind and he needs time to swallow the pill. Probably could use your help and support. Especially to deal with the consequences of Armstrong's beating. Nobody would talk about anything else back then, even after a few days when I was back. Many people came to me, knowing you and I are friends and what Jared is to you. I guess your absence didn't help and rumor had it that you were fed up with the guy's antics. I don't think clients are queuing up at his door right now."

Jensen absorbed the news and took a few minutes to decide on his next move. He had promised Jared to never again challenge someone to a duel on his account. But he hadn't promised to keep out of trouble when he was the offended party. He only had to find out where Armstrong was tonight to issue his challenge.

"Ty, I'm going to need you and Misha again."

_Love, I'm sorry to do this at the last minute, but I'll take a rain check. Something came up and I need to see someone tonight, which means I have to appear at some boring reception instead of spending the night in your loving arms. I will long for you and hope you'll allow me to show up tomorrow evening at the same time to make up for today's desertion._

_Your loving Jensen._

Satisfied, Jensen passed the note to Wallace to send immediately and finished dressing for a reception he had absolutely no desire to attend.

Half an hour later, he entered the large, brightly lit hallway of the hosts' palace, already looking for one man. He pretty much ignored the worried glances and invasive questions about the sling and his obvious bruises and headed straight for the dancing room.

It was a well-known fact that Armstrong didn't dance, to avoid making it more evident how short he was, even next to women, but he liked to try and pass for a music lover. Indeed, Jensen found him seated close to the orchestra, a dreamy smile on his face – contrary to the nasty nature he had now revealed – a smile Jensen was confident he would quickly erase.

He came to stand in front of the vermin who effectively lost his smile as soon as he recognized Jensen. The punch of Jensen's fist on his round, smarmy face was a lot more satisfactory than the usual slap of a white evening glove across his cheek would have been, even when his torn ligaments made him see stars. Clearly audible as the music had stopped, the curious murmurs of the guests enhanced this feeling, knowing that Armstrong was now obliged to go with Jensen's demand because of the roomful of witnesses.

"This is my answer to the message your goons delivered, you minuscule filth," Jensen announced in a clear voice that could be heard from the hallway, "and as you can see they did a poor job of convincing me. I want reparations, for me as well as for all the wrong you did to a gentle man I cherish dearly. Choose your seconds, Armstrong, and make sure your business is in good hands to see to your family's future before we meet tomorrow at dawn in the Holly Wood."

Armstrong was deathly pale when he stood up. He had no choice but to agree. Even having Jensen assaulted by more men before the duel would ensure that he be arrested for murder after such a public challenge.

Jensen hoped Armstrong could read in his smile that he was as good as dead.

Jensen had an important visit to pay before he would fetch Misha and go back to Ty's. Considering his current state, and the fact that he didn't trust Armstrong at all, he couldn't ignore the possibility of losing the upcoming duel. Thus the need to make sure Jared would be alright without him, should the worst happen.

Gil invited Jensen to sit on the comfortable chair facing his in the large library lit only by the close and large hearth. While the room might seem very imposing, it was in fact a very small part of the huge manor Gil presently owned as the last descendant of his old and proud family.

But Gil was definitely not fossilized in history and past traditions, like many of the aristocratic heirs fighting for royalty Jensen battled with so hard in his Gazette. The man was very liberal, and not so secretly rooting for a republic. Jensen had become interested in him when he realized that Gil McKinney, Duke of Chester, was one of those men with roots in a very formal past willing to take a leap of faith and battle for the greater good. One who thought they were far past the time of a dominant few lording over a world of dominated, penniless working class.

"I'm happy for this visit, Jensen," Gil said, "but also surprised, considering the late hour. What can I do for you ?"

They weren't exactly friends, more like acquaintances living in different circles of society, but they shared a strong, mutual respect and Jensen had often felt that Gil wouldn't mind taking it a step further. He might have pursued a relationship with the man if he hadn't already found the love of his life.

"I know it's pretty late but I might be unavailable tomorrow and I need your help. Or maybe I should call it a favor."

"I'm listening."

"I'd like you to hire Jared Padalecki for a few nights out."

A long silence first answered his admittedly unexpected request.

"I thought he was your lover."

"That he is, but I'm also his best friend, and for both reasons, I want to see him happy. Right now, he needs to show that what happened to him during these past months hasn't diminished his value for potential clients, and to do so he needs someone to help him bounce back. That's where you intervene. I'm ready to pay for these nights if need be. All you would have to do is to be seen with him at a few fashionable events and look like you're having a great time, which I'm sure you will, because Jared is never going to let you down."

"Am I supposed to sleep with him, too ? I'm certain you're aware that I'm not much attracted to men, Jensen. You're one of the few I'd be ready to make an exception for, and this is mostly because I always enjoy our conversations and I admire your mind."

"Thanks, Gil, but no, there's no obligation to sleep with him. I'm not Jared's pimp, I'm just trying to help him get over a hard time. I can even say that I'd rather you not sleep with him, but I need someone with an unblemished reputation to show they're not afraid to be the first one to hire him again."

Jensen leaned forward and his voice turned into a near murmur, almost conspiratorial.

"I know you've been trying to buy the Gazette for some time now, and that you've always been rebuffed. Don't ask me how I know, but I have some very trustworthy sources. I also have the ear of more than one man on the journal's board, and they all made quite clear that they're not very enthused by the idea of a duke controlling the very republican Gazette. I can put in a good word for you, though, and make sure your proposition will be met with a positive and open mind."

Gil's serious face turned into a slow but real smile.

"My friend, I think we just got ourselves a deal."

Gil offered his hand to a relieved Jensen and they shook on it.

Should he be dead come tomorrow, Jensen knew Gil was too honorable a man to renege on his word. He would get Jared back in the saddle.

Jared went for a long promenade in the nearby park a few hours before Jensen's visit. He had stayed cooped up for a few days, driving himself crazy with worry about his future, hardly tolerating even Chadwick's looming presence. But then, right after finding the courage to answer Jensen's missive, he suddenly realized he could no longer stand the view of his house, the walls that felt like they were going to close in on him. He had to get away for a while.

He walked the pond's perimeter at least three times, emptying his head by watching ducks and swans floating around, bickering for the same pieces of bread thrown at them by children. He tried to gather the strength to go back home and act at last like a man. Jensen and he both needed to go their separate ways, Jared knew it, and yet no amount of self-persuasion made his decision more palatable.

He was finally on his way back home, four hours later, when he heard a woman's voice calling him.

"Mr. Padalecki ? Mr. Padalecki, is that you ?"

Jared stopped, pretty sure he didn't know the woman, or at least that she wasn't one of his former clients. Maybe the wife of one of them ?

"That's me. What can I do for you, Mrs. ... ?

The woman hopped on the curb, still a lot shorter than Jared, and offered her hand for Jared to shake it.

"I'm Kim Rhodes. I work for the Buckmaster Institution, you know, the one providing for young celibate mothers who have nowhere to go and no one to help them or their children."

"This is valuable work you're doing, I'm sure, but I fail to see how…"

"I know your donation was almost anonymous, but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to thank you for the incredible sum you offered for our cause."

Jared suddenly understood. Jeff's money, which he had refused to take and asked Jensen to share with the other blackmailed people or donate. Now he knew what Jensen had done with it.

"This was not really my money," he said, embarrassed, "I can't accept your thanks."

"I know, Mr. Ackles briefly explained how you came into an unexpected inheritance and decided to use it to bring some good into our world. I can't tell you what it means to me and all the people I work with."

"I'm glad it could help, but I really don't think I deserve any of your praise."

"Then you're too hard on yourself," Mrs. Rhodes said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You're a good man, Mr. Padalecki, and I'll make sure that every woman we're able to help thanks to your donation knows what kind of person you really are."

Jared felt bad for making Jensen wait, then practically summoning him to his house, only with the idea to end it all. He had imagined making love one last time but his encounter earlier during the day with the woman working for this charity had shown, for all that didn't make it any easier, that it had to be done. Postponing would just rip his heart apart a bit more with each passing minute.

Contrary to Mrs. Rhodes and Jensen's shared belief, Jared was not a good man. He tended to sully everything he touched. The only good thing he could do by Jensen was to let him go, give him his freedom back.

Maybe he would finally believe this was a good idea if he kept repeating it often enough.

He had to steal himself when he heard the familiar sound of Jensen's cane-knocking rhythm on his door, the one of his shoes on the stairway. Even more when he saw the happy smile on his lover's face as soon as he spotted Jared.

Then Jared took in Jensen's beaten face and his arm in a sling, and everything else disappeared. The distance he had decided to keep to show they were done vanished in three steps and Jared gentled his long fingers to turn Jensen's face and take a look at his nasty bruises.

"Jensen, my God… What happened to you ?! Did you get in a fight ?"

"Something like that, yes."

"You should learn to choose your adversary. He was obviously bigger and meaner than you."

"Don't think they don't look worse than me right now !"

"They ? How many were they, exactly ?"

"Four, and they all left with a souvenir from me that they're not about to forget."

"Was it because of me ?"

"Partly. But Armstrong was mostly pissed that I had a right all his money couldn't buy."

Jared shivered with fear. They had done this to Jensen because of him. Jensen had been lucky this time, but what about other clients who would try again and again to make Jensen pay for Jared's love ?

And then what about… What about the day when someone, anyone, because of Jared or not, harmed Jensen so much that his life was in danger ? Jensen's life wasn't exactly safe in itself. His partisan articles never failed to create new enemies or regularly piss off old ones. What would happen if one of them decided to get rid of the pain and Jared wasn't around anymore to take care of him ?

He couldn't do this, couldn't end their relationship and wonder, day after day, if Jensen was alright. If he was happy and secure. In love with someone else who would never let such a wonderful man go.

He couldn't, and he wouldn't. Jensen was his private life, that's what he ought to have said to Armstrong that day, the real proof of his backbone. Jensen was the part of him that didn't belong to his job, the best part that should be left untouched by the blackness of his monetary dealings. Jared had no shortage of potential clients ; he could make clear from the beginning that his private life was just that, private, not up for discussion, and that in the same way it wouldn't interfere with his job, his job in return had no bearing on his private relationships. Anyone who didn't agree with this could find another courtesan to entertain them.

He had been freed from Morgan thanks to Jensen, he was not about to let other men, who had no real power over him other than the one he gave them, rob him of Jensen.

And he was not ready to lose the way Jensen made him feel when they made love. Jared could feel himself surge in response to Jensen's touch, and of course he used his erotic knowledge with his lover too, but it was never after a long consideration of what this particular man might enjoy ; it was a response, a gift, a beautiful dialogue between their bodies. Whenever they got near to the other, Jared's arms would reach for Jensen and pull him closer still, of their own volition, just like Jensen's arms wrapped around him and loved Jared.

There was something special and exciting between the both of them, an ebb and flow present from the beginning but honed with more than four years together, an intricacy of feelings and devotion, a web of love and dependence, something that Jared couldn't imagine experiencing with anyone else again in his life. It might be selfish of him but no, he just couldn't give up on this. Not that he really felt selfish. Jensen always made him feel beautiful and worthy, challenging Jared to be good and caring. For the first time in a long while, Jensen's article after they met had showed Jared how to love himself again and, through good times and bad times, the years hadn't erased Jensen's look of wonder and joy anytime they met.

Jensen who enjoyed Jared's extravagant presentation but knew how to see past it, admiring both the façade and what it hid. It helped Jared to remember looking beyond Jensen's own defenses, to forget his disappointment and jealousy at Jensen being allowed to adopt Licia over Jared's repeated pleas. It had been difficult and painful to admit that Jensen was a great father too, that he was able to give Licia the stability and love she craved just as much as Jared himself. A part of him had retreated behind walls, hurt and offended, feeling useless and unneeded, he could see it now. Jared had kind of made them both pay for what he perceived as a betrayal, dedicating himself even more to the pursuit of professional success. It helped him forget that Jensen's love wasn't all focused on Jared.

But then he probably feared Jensen's all-encompassing love just as much as he needed it all for himself. His feelings didn't make any kind of sense or logic, all over the place as they were, one thing and its contrary, ambivalent and screwed. But if Jensen could love him even that way, if he was still willing to be patient and understanding, Jared wasn't fool enough to let him go.

So he led Jensen to his bedroom and undressed him slowly, gently, kissing each nasty bruise to make it better and kill right now his own fear of losing his lover. Jensen was here, in his arms, and he was going nowhere. Jared made love to his beautiful body in all the ways they needed to reconnect after a long separation. He straddled his hips and sank onto his erect cock. He took him as deep inside as he could manage, to wash off the other men that had been there, and it felt just so good that he quickly shed and hid a tear or two. He couldn't bear the idea of belittling Jensen's current bliss.

Of course, his lover was not a journalist for nothing, and the questions came soon after, when Jared lay in Jensen's arms half asleep and still half high from love, making peace with the kisses they kept trading.

"Why did you stop writing, Jared ? I was gone for more than three months and I got one letter only, at the very beginning. I thought… I don't even know what I thought, but I remember feeling scared, for me and Licia, that you didn't want us anymore."

He could have explained about Armstrong and Hal Ozsan, and he probably would sooner or later, but they were only circumstances. They didn't explain why Jared had taken a step back.

"I think… I wanted to prove that I can make it. That I'm good on my own, that I don't always need someone to make decisions for me or be there to clean up my mess, not even you. That I belong to myself."

"You can do that, Jared. You've always been your own master, even with Morgan lording over you. But _we_ can do better. We can belong to each other, sustain each other. Anyone can stand on their own and decide they'll be better off needing no one else. We can choose to lean on us, for as long as we want. I've done it since we met, and I always thought I was so much better for this. Because of your love. I want to do the same for you. To make you feel secure. Loved. Never alone."

Jared looked up, stunned. Because of your love, Jensen had said. Not because I love you, but because you love me. Because Jared's love, of which he had no doubt, had made Jensen feel stronger and better.

And it was true he loved this man. So much he couldn't help coming back again and again to him. He was pretty much Jared's first thought in the morning, his last desire before sleep took him.

He would never say to Jensen how close he had come to ending it definitely. There was a good chance, as astute as he was, that Jensen had known it all along anyway. No mail for more than two months had to be a pretty good giveaway. But speaking those words aloud might drive a wedge between them, something Jared wanted to avoid at all costs now that he had chosen his place at last.

It wasn't until much later the next day that Jensen told Jared Armstrong was dead.

Jared watched Jensen sleep, seeking Jared's contact even while unconscious. The thought warmed him as much as the first day he had admitted his feelings to himself and acknowledged the fact that they were reciprocated.

With this new duel, Jensen had proved once again that no one, and maybe nothing, came before Jared in his life ; that he was ready to meet danger at every opportunity for Jared's sake.

Jared loved that about him. And some part of him also felt stifled, the one that had said no to Hal and rejoiced at Jeff's demise. The one that wanted Jared to lead his life for himself and no one else, not even the beloved man that had made it all possible.

He wasn't sure yet how he would be able to navigate those strong and contrary currents, but he had to try. Beginning with this job offer he had received earlier today.

It was more than time he really took his destiny in hand. That he stopped letting interferences, pleasant as they may be, run between him and his goal. More than time to capitalize on his will to win and become the best courtesan, which he had implemented the day he had set his sights on Jensen. To make all the opportunities offered by his lover fructify.

To become a man not only rich but respected.

Nothing should come before this plan. Nothing would.


	4. Dominant passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"You live entirely in the current moment ; you are confined there by a dominant passion, and everything not related to this moment seems to you antiquated and outdated."_  
>  Madame de Staël, Corinne ou l'Italie (1807)

Tahmoh was crazy. Nice, but completely unhinged.

In the few weeks Jared had worked for him, his client had taken him on more forbidden adventures than his younger self had imagined, stuck in his boring province with nothing but time to plot the ways in which he was going to become someone respected and financially secure. The very rich Mr. Penikett and he had been constantly flirting with danger, not the physical kind but the one that meant being taken into custody and presented to a judge for desecration of a monument or disorderly conduct.

Of course it didn't help that Tahmoh loved nothing more than sampling any and all alcoholic beverages and psychedelic drugs known to mankind. He'd tried to convince Jared to get high with him more than once, but Jared had seen too many people among his colleagues addicted to one substance or another to want to go down that road. He remembered far too well doing everything Hal had asked when he was still under the influence of whatever painkiller he had been given.

He had no problem with alcohol, though, and he didn't mind drinking a bit more than usual to keep up with his current client. His personality got bubblier and it was all good in the name of the job.

It explained why he had let Tahmoh persuade him to open or shed most of his clothes in the back alley of the fashionable restaurant where they'd had dinner to fuck him against the wall. He was usually far too cautious for that kind of display, too classy in his dealings. He had a reputation to uphold, especially if he wanted potential clients to forget about his past troubles with Jeff Morgan and Curtis Armstrong.

"Police !" a voice bellowed from behind Jared's right shoulder. "Get away from each other !"

Being discovered by two police officers as he was fucked in the ass by a billionaire drunkard out in a shadowy street didn't fit in the plan he had built and scrupulously followed for the last three years since he was offered another chance by Gil McKinney. Or should he say Jensen, who had confessed, long after the fact, to being the mastermind behind Gil's offer to help Jared's self-confidence and his reputation at the same time.

"No can do, guys," Tahmoh answered to the order, breathless.

Indeed, Tahmoh quickened his pace instead of stopping and pushed Jared roughly against the wall with every thrust, protecting Jared's own cock with his hand as he jerked him off.

"I said get away from each other !" the same voice commanded once again.

"Let them finish it off," the other officer suggested, a slight tremolo in his voice indicating he was possibly affected a lot more than his colleague by the intimate show of two unknown men rutting like crazy. "They won't be able to walk with such hard-ons anyway."

Jared smiled, relieved to hear the understanding in the second cop's voice. He could probably offer a very advantageous deal to make both officers forget about what they were witnessing. He let Tahmoh grip his hips and fuck his ass as he pleased, giving himself to the pleasure of the rubbered cock stroking his prostate mercilessly.

He came first, obliged to push Tahmoh's hand away when his touch became more painful than arousing and his client didn't or wouldn't read the signs warning him about it. Mere seconds later, Tahmoh followed his lead and came in the condom Jared had hastily put on him before he had been pushed face first against the white stones of the posh building.

Many of Jared's clients lost their last shred of stamina when intoxicated. Tahmoh never had this problem. It seemed on the contrary to fuel his desire constantly and made him horny like a dog in heat.

"Alright, boys," the nice cop reminded them of his presence, "sorry to burst your bubble but you're gonna have to come with us."

Jared turned but certainly did not re-dress. He stood there, half-naked and proud, displaying himself to try and sway the policemen.

"Well, officers, maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement ?" Jared asked, the offer clear in his tone and the way he positioned his body, hands on his hips to display his nakedness and his still half-hard cock in the most arousing manner.

"Well…" the first cop repeated, blatantly interested. His eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets and Jared feared for a moment that the man was having a heart attack.

"The law is the same for everyone," the second cop cut in, but he was looking at Tahmoh, not Jared, with hatred in his eyes.

Tahmoh, owner of many industries and whose wild speculations had made him filthy rich at the expense of thousands of workers who had lost their jobs, sometimes even their life, when most foremen had refused to modernize or repair their dangerous workplaces because the big boss didn't care. Tahmoh who probably had one hundred people hating him for each one of those who despised Jared because of his job. Tahmoh who Jensen had warned Jared not to trust at all and would have preferred Jared to refuse working for him.

"I'm Jared Padalecki," Jared tried for a diversion, unsure if he had been recognized too, "maybe you've heard of me ? Your boss, Prefect McManus, is an old friend of mine."

He hadn't seen Don for quite a few years but it was worth a shot.

"Then the prefect will be happy to see you. Jared Padalecki, Tahmoh Penikett, you're under arrest for soliciting and indecent behavior in a public place. Get dressed and we'll be taking you to the central precinct."

They first walked to the district precinct, where they took a carriage that drove them to Central. In his early months as a prostitute, long before he became a reputable courtesan, Jared had spent a few nights in jail, making his way out by servicing the officer in charge. He had never been taken to Central, though, and he knew this dubious honor to be the consequence of both his and Tahmoh's fame.

Less than ten minutes later, Tahmoh was discharged with the assurance that no record would be kept of the rookie mistake the cops arresting him were responsible for. Jared was less lucky, and Tahmoh even refused to pay for him, arguing he couldn't get on the wrong side of the nice police chief who had given him a free pass out of jail.

"What wrong side ?" Jared gasped. "You discreetly offer him the right amount of money and he'll be happy enough to let the both of us go."

"Don't take it like that," Tahmoh silenced him with a caress on his face, proving that the richest men could also be the most avaricious ones. "You said the prefect was your friend, so call on him."

Tahmoh abandoned Jared in jail without a second glance or a goodbye kiss. Without the punch Jared still ached to throw square in his face many hours later, as the sun was already up and he was taken at last out of his smelly cell – where he hadn't slept at all, to make sure the other prisoners who had mocked his lavender outfit and paisley shirt all night long wouldn't attack him – to be marched to an office on the second floor.

"Prefect McManus," Jared rejoiced with a real smile as the man stood to welcome him, "I'm glad to see you again."

"I'm sure you are, Jared. How have you been ?"

"Horizontal, mostly, as you well know."

"I do remember, my dear, and it's a lovely memory I still cherish."

The prefect bent down over Jared's hand, indicating with a lingering kiss that he would very much like to make the most of the opportunity. They hadn't seen each other for a long while. McManus was back from a posting in a faraway province due to his pissing off the wrong person, a favorite of the king who had asked for his head to roll. Only the fact that the woman wasn't a favorite anymore had brought McManus back into the king's good graces, and to the important position he now occupied.

"That's good to know," Jared answered with his most flirty smile. "I'm afraid there's been kind of a misunderstanding with one of your officers, but I'm sure you and I will be able to achieve a much better understanding of this situation."

"I have no doubt whatsoever."

McManus came closer, one hand sliding along Jared's waist while the other cupped his cock. The prefect was hardly his type but, as a courtesan, Jared had been left with only good memories of their time spent in bed.

"It's been what ? Three ? Four years since we last saw each other ?"

"Probably close to five."

"I'm sure you're even more beautiful than you were back then."

"I'd love to show you."

"And I'd love to see you naked again. I remember taking you more than once in my old office, for the pleasure of imagining you around whenever work got tedious. I need to make new memories to fit this new office. So please, disrobe."

Jared instantly obeyed, but he did it slowly. Enticingly, provoking McManus' desire, baring tiny bits of skin at a time. He felt sweaty and not particularly in the mood after his long, stressful night, but his training took over.

"You used to love for me to lick your nipples," McManus commented, raising his hands to play with the buds as soon as they were exposed.

"I still love it."

Jared stopped his striptease while McManus played with his nipples, effectively arousing him with an alternation of licks and bites.

"Go on, I want you naked," the prefect said when he stepped back, satisfied with the way Jared's chest glowed.

Jared resumed his task, sitting down to take off his shoes and socks, and then standing up again to let his pants fall down by his ankles. McManus' breath hitched at the sight of his underwear made of very transparent muslin, and even more when Jared turned around to let him see the lack of cloth on his butt, revealing, between the lacy bands circling his waist and his thighs to hold the unusual underpants in place, Jared's crack and his well-rounded ass cheeks.

McManus' hands answered their appeal as if summoned by a magnet. His thumbs traced Jared's crack, spreading it open, while his other fingers mapped Jared 's ass.

"Finish it," McManus pleaded, feverish. "Finish it now or I'll tear this thing apart."

Without moving, Jared untied the front lace and then pushed the underwear down his long legs, bending down to follow its position and offer the best view of his ass. He got McManus' mouth on it for his trouble, his tongue opening his hole, before he quickly found himself on his knees on the office couch, a sad little brown and beige thing that showed how much power the prefect had lost in the debacle of his disfavor.

A few years ago, the man had been all about golden furniture and showy colors. Today's furnishings had probably come with the office, the white curtains and olive green hangings, the heavy and old desk bought by a previous prefect with dubious taste. McManus hadn't been here long enough to attain the means necessary to change everything. He would pass this information to Jensen.

Taking Jared here was definitely a way to remember his past magnificence, to invoke good luck back in his life.

"Lube and condom in my pants," Jared reminded McManus before things became too heated for the man to control his desire.

The prefect prepared himself and Jared with fast efficiency and then began his resolute penetration.

"That's good, Don, you're so good at this ! Come on, give it to me !"

Hard and fast was the way Don enjoyed sex, and Jared didn't feel in this case that he was trying to put on a show, to act as he thought a manly man should. It was too much in accordance with the rest of his personality. The man was intelligent but mercurial, lacking circumspection at times, which explained his past disgrace. Sex brought out in him the same qualities and flaws. He took care of Jared, but only to the extent of his own pace.

Jared followed, jacking his own cock in time with McManus' rhythm, and then playing with his nipples when the prefect took hold of his dick. Anything to come too and make a show of his own pleasure, to satisfy the man enough to get out of his predicament without going to jail for indecent exposure.

Shallow breaths signaled that they were both at the end of their restraint, that they needed to come, right now. Jared was the first to fall apart, keeping enough mind about him to squeeze McManus' dick tight and send him over.

The prefect lay down on Jared for a short moment, gathering his wits about him, before he stood again and went to wash a bit and re-dress. He was enough of a gentleman to come back to Jared with a wet washcloth that he used to clean him up gently.

"About this misunderstanding," McManus said, "I get it, completely, and that's because I think there's been one between me and one of your closest friends."

"Really ?" Jared replied noncommittally.

He knew exactly where this was going, but still wondered how far the prefect would dare to push. Jensen had written about the man more than once. Never in a flattering way.

"Really. You know how it is. You do or say something in the heat of the moment, and then it gets reported to the wrong person, who makes it more than it should be. And then the press hears about it, and it becomes this huge thing without any relevance to the original anecdote. Do you see what I mean ?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, your friend, Mr. Ackles, has been writing those articles about my time in the province that give a very inaccurate image of my work out there."

"How unfortunate !"

"I was sure you'd understand ! Just like I'm sure, with your wonderful talent, that you could help me change his mind."

"I'd be very happy to help you reach an understanding, but Jensen and I don't have that kind of relationship. Our jobs are separate parts of our lives, that have no repercussions on the other."

"Don't sell yourself short, my dear. You two have been together for how many years ? Six ? Seven ?"

Jared nodded at the last proposition, still aloof.

"Seven !" the prefect repeated, impressed. "I'm sure you know what makes the man tick after so many years, and that he loves you very much, right ? Otherwise, he would have left you long ago to marry a blushing bride and have pretty pink babies with her. Besides, such talent in the sack means you know how to make us poor men see things the way you want. I would definitely forget your arrest today if you were to convince Mr. Ackles to back off."

"I can certainly try, but I can't make any promise."

"Then I'm afraid we'll have to convince him together."

Abandoning the washcloth, McManus stood and brought Jared back a sheet of paper and a pen.

"Tell him you need his help to get out of jail, and let's see how ready your friend is to support you."

Jared's letter found Jensen at home, playing at being a train, choo-chooing like a crazy man with Licia and one of Wallace's children sitting on his back, their hands gripping his shirt in tight fists but laughing delightedly. At ten, Licia was becoming too old and heavy for this kind of game but she was jealous of Jensen's attention and the other kids liked it too much for Jensen to consider putting an end to their fun.

Wallace watched them with an amused smile – Jensen had found him playing sillier games with his daughter and his own kids more than once – waiting for the train to arrive at the station and the pretty voyagers to get down before he offered the letter to his master.

_Jensen,_

_My love, I'm deeply sorry to bother you with such matters, but an old acquaintance of mine, Prefect McManus, is ready to help me to get out of a delicate situation. In return, he's just asking for the opportunity to discuss some of the topics that have been opposing you recently._

_May I ask as a personal favor that you join us at the prefecture as soon as you're free ?_

_With all my love,_

_Jared_

McManus. If the old bastard thought he could threaten Jared to get Jensen to back down, he had another thing coming !

McManus was definitely getting value for money as he fucked Jared a second time. The free sex itself was nothing to sneer at, of course, but then Jared knew the fact that Jensen would find them at it was more of a petty vengeance for all the articles impugning the prefect's integrity.

Jensen stood there after he closed the door in the face of the smirking officer who had brought him to McManus's office, his eyes locked with Jared's. Jared still as naked, spread on the couch, thankfully unaroused and remembering all too well the previous time a similar situation had occurred. Jensen's presence in such a moment felt like a bucket of glacial water poured on his whole body, even though the prefect's reaction was diametrically opposite.

The fucking went on for two or three more minutes, McManus intending to put on a good show for Jensen, touching Jared everywhere to highlight the fact that his body belonged to anyone who could pay for it.

Jared felt his heart getting tighter, his breath more difficult by the second. Only Jensen's smile when McManus finished at last helped him resist the growing sensation that he was going to faint.

"Mr. Ackles," the prefect greeted the journalist once he was dressed again, "I'm so pleased you were able to join us at such short notice. Please come in and make yourself at home."

Jensen pretty much ignored the hand offered by McManus to approach Jared and help him get up. They shared a sweet kiss that settled Jared's nerves completely, and then Jensen picked up Jared's clothes before he turned back to the prefect, letting Jared dress while he began the negotiations.

"Jared wrote you wished for a discussion. Go on, I'm listening."

"Very well," McManus agreed as he sat behind his desk. "Here's the deal : you stop writing all those lies about me in your Gazette, and our mutual friend here is free to go. There will be no record of his arrest and he will never be bothered by another cop again for the rest of his life, as long as you keep your word."

Jensen burst into laughter. McManus and Jared both watched him as if he had gone mad in the last second.

"I'm sorry," Jensen said, hardly controlling his mirth. "I thought we were having a real discussion, maybe not a confrontation of ideals but at least a frank talk about the best ways to do our respective jobs. Now if the goal of this conversation is to write lies, then I'll submit tomorrow a brand new article about your love of little kids, girls and boys alike, and how you have your officers take them out of the streets to bring them to you so that you can have your wicked way with them."

"That's a lie !" the prefect erupted, getting up with the violence of his indignation. "An unjustified offense !"

Jensen kept perfectly cool as he looked down on McManus.

"I know it, and you know it. Jared too, probably. But the people out there, those who read my column, chances are they will believe that where there's smoke, there's a fire. And they trust me."

Jared had been thinking the same thing. He doubted the prefect would be interested in immature bodies, and even more that Jensen wouldn’t have already written about it if he thought this to be true. Jensen would have made sure the information was accurate and then published it, regardless of the consequences, to protect the kids who couldn't do it for themselves. Jared didn't believe for one second that Jensen's principles would let him publish a lie either, even to ensure Jared's protection, but McManus had everything to lose in this terrible bluff.

"Now we can all forget this conversation ever took place," Jensen proposed, "just like you are going to erase all record of Jared's arrest and make sure, as per your suggestion, that he'll never be bothered again, at least for as long as you occupy this position. For my part, I promise to never write anything else than the truth about you. Are we in agreement ?"

Jared read it on his face, Jensen knew he had won both the battle and the war. McManus knew it too, and he didn't like it one bit.

"We agree. Go to hell !"

After Jensen helped Jared put his jacket back on, he took his hand and kissed him again.

"Ready to leave ?"

"Absolutely."

"You think you're so smart, Ackles," the prefect lashed out as they walked to the door, "but you're pathetic ! You have to be to fall in love with a whore. I hope you'll see him again and again offering himself to other men, giving them as much pleasure as he gave me !"

Jensen squeezed Jared's hand before he turned one last time to McManus, a broad smile on his face.

"Ah, I know," Jensen gushed, "Jared's so talented. He always makes everyone so happy, it's great that you realized it. Enjoy your day, Prefect."

Jared cuddled close to Jensen in the carriage taking him back to his lover's home. He was supposed to spend the evening with Tahmoh but after his client's refusal to pay for his discharge, even though he was the one who got them in this shitty place, he could certainly go find another courtesan to entertain him. Besides, Jared needed to feel Jensen's love to put this experience behind him and reassure himself they were good.

"I'm sorry I put you in this situation."

"Don't try to bear the blame for McManus' sleaziness, none of this was your fault."

"It's not only that. I never wanted you to see me fucked by someone else again."

"And once again, it was not your fault."

Jared felt like a pardon Jensen's hand on his cheek.

"Don't worry about it anymore, okay ? I've already forgotten everything. I'm just happy I was able to get you out of trouble."

Jared scrutinized Jensen's face.

"Aren't you ever jealous ? Not even a little bit ?"

"Why ? And why should I be ? I realized after that first time that I can't afford to be jealous, Jared. They are your job, and I am your lover. That's all I have to think about or I'll go crazy, imagining that you might enjoy being with them more than me."

"Never !" Jared rushed to state. "I'm not saying they're all lousy lays, but I never want to go back to them unless there's money to be gained. You, I think about all the time. Even when I shouldn't."

It had even become kind of a problem in the last months, this growing difficulty to bisect his life into very distinct parts devoid of any relation. Jared often kept to himself details of his job he thought might hurt Jensen, but he also couldn't help thinking of his lover during work hours, especially when it was so very clear he was just a convenient hole to the client taking him.

He still enjoyed some moments out of his whole job, but they were getting shorter and rarer. Traveling far from Jensen and Licia brought boredom at best, intolerable longing at worst. Neither of them really complained but Jared knew they didn't ever want him to leave for more than a few days at once. It proved difficult sometimes for one of them at least to be there to take care of their already ten-year-old girl, and Jensen couldn't help the needs of his own job any more than Jared. They wouldn't have been able to pull it off without Liz's help and love.

But Licia was so good, and she took her role as big sister to Wallace and Liz's kids very seriously. Alive with children's shouts and songs, Jensen's house felt like home to Jared now, more than his own place ever did. It reminded him of his old house as a kid, the way he and his sister would run one after the other, fight and play for hours, unconcerned about the future, even after their father's death and the unpaid bills piling up on their mother's desk.

The carriage came roughly to a halt, horses' hooves and wheels sliding on the wet pavement in front of the house, and Jensen got out right after paying the driver. He held the door open for Jared and offered him his hand to help him getting down.

"Daddy !" a young voice shrieked, bringing a grin to Jared's face.

He braced himself to compensate for Licia's weight and avoid stumbling over when his daughter launched herself at him from the last step of the entrance stairway. With Licia's arms around his neck and Jensen's hand at the small of his back, Jared stopped worrying and gave himself entirely to his family life.

Jensen's room had been austere before Jared. He didn't spend much time in it and didn't see the need to decorate a place that was purely utilitarian. But Jared loved his comfort, and being surrounded with pretty things, so Jensen had happily made the effort of stripping the whole room down to turn it into something pleasant to his lover's eyes. It also benefited from the biggest bed Jensen had ever seen, to accommodate Jared's incredible height so that they could make love easily in any and all positions. Anything to encourage Jared to stick around longer, to come more often. To perfume with his unique scent the sheets and pillowcases so that Jensen would feel less alone whenever his love wasn't around.

He made sure to stock many booklets of Iffly paper and had Wallace burn some before they came back home. The poor man hadn't always approved of Jared's habits, feeling the courtesan was leading his master astray, but in the last few years, as Jared and he had spent more and more time together, his valet's feelings had slowly evolved from forced politeness to warm attentions. He never forgot nowadays to burn the paper or use Jared's favorite sheets.

Wallace's welcome had been less than stellar on Jared's first visit. Somehow, Jensen's valet had recognized the dashing visitor and almost closed the door in his face before Jensen intervened and made it clear that Mr. Padalecki was a guest of honor at all times in this house. Surly and glacial, Wallace had let him come in and dragged his feet all evening during his service – bringing cold dishes that should have been warm, knocking his glass over to spill the wine on his suit – so much that Jensen had finally sent him away to his room and served Jared himself dessert and after-dinner liquors.

The next morning, Wallace had made a show of stripping Jensen's bed of the sheets, with gloves on, to put them to wash off in too-hot water. He had done this a few more times, ruining all of Jensen's sheets in the process, continuously being insolent to Jared's nice comments, until Jensen had taken him into his office to let him know in no uncertain terms that, as satisfied as he usually was with Wallace's work, should he be forced to choose between his valet of ten years and his lover of a few months, Wallace wouldn't win.

The atmosphere had slowly cleared up between the two men. Licia had helped a lot, her kiddy charm working on Wallace like magic. Not to mention the fact that the valet wouldn’t have met Liz and started his own family if it wasn’t for Jared, who had also helped financially so that Jensen was able to add a new part to his house to lodge the growing Langham family. All in all, Jensen now wondered on occasions if Wallace didn't obey Jared more than his own master.

He found Jared already in bed, sheets hiding the bottom half of his body, pretending to read but almost asleep. The previous night had been rough on him, as evidenced by the bags under his pretty eyes, and Jensen had sent him to bed while he finished the article he had promised for the next day. He was not surprised to discover that Jared had tried to wait for him, though. Jared's favorite moment of the day had always been the few minutes they spent in each other's arms before sleep, whispering sweet nothings as well as thoughts made more troublesome by the light of day that suddenly seemed easier to let go in the dark.

Jared emerged from his doze as Jensen slid between the sheets and hooked his arm around his lover. He came closer and put his head on Jensen's shoulder.

"Sorry I couldn't stay awake. I wanted to help you with the article."

"Don't worry about it, you'll have time in the morning if you want to take a look at it."

Jensen still loved to listen to Jared's input. Their different approaches and life views often proved complementary and it always offered food for thought and a useful balance of opinions. Jared was so much more learned and intelligent than his clients wanted to know. Combined with the thorough discussions they had shared since coming together, and his renewed love for reading to find arguments and ideas to counter Jensen's or pick his interest, Jensen felt, day after day, that Jared was now more secure in his own worth beyond his talent for sex. It warmed his heart to see him glow under Jensen's compliments as much as every time he heard Jared's cries of pleasure during their lovemaking.

"I know you said you aren't jealous, but I'm sorry all the same, Jensen. I hope it won't happen ever again."

Jensen's fingers played with Jared's hair to soothe his lover.

"All I've ever asked from you is to be honest with me. I know what you're doing with your clients. I'm not saying I enjoyed seeing you with that corrupted old ass McManus, but I'm more annoyed that he used you to try to get to me. I don't have to feel jealous about that. And I take comfort in the unexpected time we get to spend together because of this incident."

"I'm happy about it, too."

The silence stretched, leading Jensen to believe Jared had fallen asleep for good this time, until his voice was heard again in the dark.

"I love you so much. Do you still love me ?"

"Always," Jensen whispered with a kiss to Jared's forehead.

__  
**The Republic of my heart, by Jensen Ackles**  


_I've always been an idealist. An unashamed believer in a better world for the whole human race, through the choices of the many and not the interests of a few. A world where girls are educated just as much the boys, where younger siblings are just as important as the oldest ones, where being rich or poor just doesn't count to be heard._

_This day is within easy reach, my friends._

_The financial scandals that have been rocking the court lately, tying the king to some shady companies, here and overseas, prove that the time has come to show him what we really want. We all know how patronage works and keeps the current government alive, those puppets moved by the money accumulating in their purse instead of the common good._

_To hell with those corrupt profiteers who have sucked the people's blood for centuries ! Let them see what we're made of. Let them learn what it means to anger us, to push so many of us to desperation._

_Our ancestors showed us the way with a first revolution. It's our turn to prove that we're no less deserving of the Republic than they were, but that we learned from their errors._

_We can make it work without any bloodshed, we can create a true Republic, one that will welcome all of us, men and women, black and white, rich and poor, young and old, religious and atheist, and everyone in between._

_This is why I call upon you, my friends. United, we stand our best chance to make our dream come true. I beg of you, do not let this moment pass. Come to the meetings organized by the republicans all around the country. Demonstrate with us, protest at your workplaces._

_Join those of us who are ready to fight to depose the king and create the Republic of our heart.  
_

Whatever he might have thought in his youth, Jared was neither particularly enthused by nor thoroughly against the king nowadays. Same thing about the republic, for he figured all those people, whatever their political circle of influence, would always see him as a second-class citizen, a godless and lawless prostitute who liked his money more than a sovereign or his compatriots.

But Jensen was overjoyed by the new political developments. Jared knew already that his time in the army had been in the name of the country, and not for the benefit of a distant leader who thought himself more important than anyone else. He couldn't be happier than now, when the prospect of a more egalitarian world was so close at hand. Ready to fight to ensure that the Republic he dreamed of would be permanent this time.

Ready enough to refuse to back down, even after he had been thrown in prison for a few days, accused of encouraging sedition after his broadside against the king and his government, along with some colleagues of the same persuasion. Jared had cried, pleaded for Jensen to retract his article, but this was the one topic over which his lover, uncompromising, had stayed unaffected by Jared's supplication and Licia's tears.

In the end, the reporters' arrests had acted as the proverbial last straw, the event triggering the current situation. A crowd, joined by Jared, gathered around the prison to demand the release of the freethinkers. Fearing an uprising, the government had quickly relented, only to be overthrown anyway by the populace's revolt when the most common goods' prices had rocketed.

Journalistically, it was a dream come true for Jensen. It left little time to see his lover but Jared tried to remain understanding. Jensen wanted to be everywhere, right in the heart of the events, and Jared had only made him promise to send news daily that he was safe and uninjured – he had been grazed by bullets at least twice, and fisticuffs happened on a daily basis – in case he couldn't come and assuage Jared's fears by himself.

Jared never imagined he would be the one danger found.

In his own house, no less.

They were four. Four revolutionaries – or rather four of those opportunists Jensen so often raged about – who had forced Jared's door open, wearing military jackets that, judging from the bloody holes adorning them, had been stolen from dead bodies they had passed by in the streets, and then pushed Chadwick inside in search for the house master.

Jared heard the cries and found the intruders in the dining room, helping themselves to his brandy. Chadwick sat on a nearby chair, threatened by one of the men's pistol.

"What can I do for you, citizens ?" Jared enquired in a level tone.

All eyes turned on him.

"Citizens, he says !" the leader laughed, followed by the other men, before he became deadly serious again. "Don't try to make yourself pass for one of us."

"I am, though. Born without a title, brought up in relative poverty, obliged to work and sell my body to make ends meet. I may have succeeded in my career, it doesn't mean I've forgotten my origins. My lover is the journalist Jensen Ackles, who has called repeatedly for the revolution and the Republic, I have protested against the abusive arrests and financially supported the anti-royalist movements. I'd be happy to help you in any way I can, provided you don't hurt my staff or me."

"Do you hear that, guys ? He'd be happy to help us."

"Yeah, Plotnick, we did hear."

The man came closer and leered at Jared.

"That's great, your highness, that's really great ! My friends and I have been feeling the need for a bit of love. We figured that it was our turn to get a taste of a king's delicacy."

Jared felt fear overwhelm him and chase his calmness. He needed to stay focused, though, to get a chance to save Chadwick and Sophia, and preferably himself too.

"And we want to drink !" another man yelled, soon imitated by the three others.

"Of course, anything for the combatants for the Republic," Jared tried to temporize. "Would you prefer wine or liquor ?"

"We want wine," one of the older men answered, "and we want meat, and pastries, everything you hide in your pantry for the rich men you entertain."

"Good idea, McBeath," Plotnick approved. "Food and drinks, for all of us."

"Very well, Chadwick will make it his duty to prepare the most succulent meal in your honor if you let him go to the kitchen."

He could only hope Sophia had managed to hide after she heard the commotion. He didn't dare imagine she had found a way to escape and run to Jensen for help. Going to the police or the military would be tricky. Regiments like Ty's had allied with the Republic, but others were still faithful to the king. McManus had been run out of the prefecture but not all policemen had accepted the revolution, discords symptomatic of the country's division, and chaos made the streets definitely unsafe, especially for a young and pretty woman.

"Right, Chadwick," Plotnick ordered, "go do your duty. Sanford, go with him. Lindberg, you go too and bring back the wine immediately."

Sanford, the one aiming at the valet with his pistol, nodded and pushed Chadwick out of the room.

Plotnick turned back to Jared as soon as his men were out of the room, undressing him with his lusty gaze in a way not many clients had ever dared use so crudely when they were not alone.

"Now it's time for a bit of entertainment, sweetheart, don't you think ?"

"Alright," Jared accepted, ready for anything to get them out of this or buy enough time for Jensen to arrive. "What would you enjoy ?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe seeing you naked, for a start. You really look overdressed. Right, McBeath ?"

A hearty "Hell, yes !" agreed with Plotnick's proposition, leaving Jared with no choice but to act upon it.

"Gentlemen, please take a seat and I'll oblige."

Steeling his nerves to appear completely at ease, Jared first took his shirt off. Catcalls and whistles grew in noise and frequency as he shed more clothes and soon found himself entirely naked.

"Now that's what I call a whore !" McBeath exclaimed. "Look at that body ! And he knows how to make us drool for it."

"Come nearer," Plotnick called with a clear sign of his index finger.

Jared did it slowly, making the men wait and desire him all the more, until he was close enough for McBeath to take hold of his hand and force him closer, right between him and the leader of the group. The action displeased Plotnick, who had Jared sitting on his lap in no time to caress him.

"Your skin is so smooth, and yet you say that you've been working all your life."

"Sleeping with men for money is a job. I always do my best to make them happy. It takes time and effort."

"So you're gonna do your best for us tonight ?"

"Absolutely. I'm sure you boys deserve all the thanks I can muster for freeing us from the tyrant and his clique."

"That's a good little bitch," McBeath concluded, his hand sliding along Jared's thigh to get to his hardening cock.

Plotnick had already forced his legs apart to caress his balls, but as one of his fingers entered Jared from behind, dry and hard, he abandoned Jared's jewels to let McBeath play with them and took hold of Jared's face to bring it down and kiss him roughly.

Jared submitted, as much aware of his growing erection as the sound of the dumbwaiter lifting food to this story.

"Dinner is coming," Jared said as he backed off slowly, trying again to buy time.

"Lindberg," Plotnick addressed the youngest man standing still a few meters away with two bottles in each hand he had found in the cellar, his eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sight of Jared, "make yourself useful if you're not gonna play with us and bring the food back here."

Lindberg came out of his trance and put the bottles down on the table.

"Yes, sir !" Lindberg saluted, as a real soldier, before he departed for the next room.

The younger man had probably served in a master's house, and he showed it by taking the food already there on the nearby tray and then sending the dumbwaiter back to the kitchen. He did it three more times before everything was unloaded and brought to the main table.

Plotnick and McBeath hadn't stopped playing with Jared's body for one second, and Chadwick came back for his service to find them at it. His reaction was as unpredictable as it was swift, throwing himself with a cry of rage at his master's attackers. Jared didn't have time to exhort him to calm, and a few punches brought him down in less than a minute.

"Sanford, Lindberg, you tie him up and you lock him in that lodge we've seen by the entry."

Jared asked that they avoid hurting Chadwick as he watched his unconscious valet secured by tight knots with the curtain tiebacks, then dragged by his arms towards the stairs.

"Okay," Plotnick smiled, "first we eat, and then we fuck."

Jared very much agreed, if only with the hope of seeing a rescue party arrive before things could go further. Plotnick only let him go so that he could do the service for them and the two other men once they were back. It angered Jared to see these four petty criminals take advantage of his house and himself but he kept quiet and showed only the most gracious manners, even when his ass and genitals were repeatedly groped and fondled during the improvised dinner.

He wondered if Chadwick might have regained consciousness and freed himself to run for help. But as he watched the little hand on the clock turn and the dinner about to end, he felt his hope diminishing inversely of his growing fear of dying.

With a grunt of pleasure at the last mouthful of macaroons, Plotnick slapped his hand on the table and then on Jared's ass.

"Time for the show !" he yelled.

Unconcerned that two of his men hadn't finished their dinner, he slid the tablecloth off the table, sending precious china and burning candles to shatter on the floor. McBeath extinguished the starting fire with the untouched water pitcher while Plotnick pushed Jared face first onto the table. Spreading his ass cheeks, he slotted his nose in Jared's crack and smelled him.

"I saw you, a long time ago," Plotnick said suddenly, voice muffled by Jared's ass. "You used to work for my boss back then. Naked all the time, fucked by him, and his son, everywhere, any and all hours. In front of all of us peasants and boors, as if we weren't even here, as if we meant nothing. You don't know how many times I've come with these memories, imagining you taking my cock just like you took theirs, and now you're mine. You're gonna do everything I say, because I have the power, and you're my bitch."

"I'll do anything you want, I promise."

"Do you know what I fantasized the most about ? Rimming you. They did it every fucking time before they took you, and they enjoyed it so much, seeing you there, taking it, crying for it, right before they fucked you raw."

Plotnick matched his memories with the present, rubbing his tongue around Jared's rim like the most delicious candy. Jared tried to play along and display the same kind of professional false passion he was particularly good at but he thought he fell far from the mark.

Or maybe not that far of Plotnick's reconstructed fantasies based on his jealousy towards his former master. Jared knew what was about to happen right before the penetration when he felt the man move up and position his hips to his liking.

"It's fit for a king !" Plotnick exclaimed as he pushed inside Jared, quickly bottoming out.

His men roared in laughter. They kept on laughing as their leader erased years of frustration and hate of the rich and powerful by fucking the symbol of their privileges, putting himself in their position to prove he had it in him too to rule over the masses. Jared understood he was just a means to an end but the bitterness was still there that once again he found himself put in the middle, accepted by no social class, not even the one he had come from, tired and hurt to be damned both for his origins and because he had tried to better his life.

Jensen was going to be devastated when he learned of what these men had done to him, people he had put all his faith in to change the world for a better place. For everyone, Jared and all his colleagues included. Jared wished to be there, still alive by then, to help him with the downfall.

He had successfully managed to distance himself enough that he felt Plotnick's release as a surprise when the man's rhythm faltered, began again and then stopped altogether. Plotnick's weight on his back lasted only for a few more seconds before he pulled out and called McBeath to take his place. Jared didn't have time to move a finger. He got fucked again by the older man, and it was so reminiscent of Jeff's weekends of fun, all those gentlemen lining to take a turn at him, that he found it difficult to remember where he was for a moment.

Memory came back with Sanford adding his offering to the community effort, though the transition was smooth and hardly noticeable. Change only manifested when Lindberg refused to go at him unthinkingly.

"I'm not sure, Plotnick," he argued. "That's rape."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of it : he wants you to. Right, Padalecki ?"

"Yes. Yes, anything for you freedom fighters," Jared answered as his fists tightened, shivering despite his fervent tone.

He should have been an actor, really, if these guys believed him.

"See ? So go on, Lindberg. Our host is waiting, you can't leave him hanging like that. That's not manly and it won't do at all. Unless you're not really a man…"

"You know I am, dammit ! We've fought side by side. You saw me kill that guy."

"I know, man, and that's why I also know you can do it now."

Plotnick had found the right words and with a determined expression, Lindberg unbuttoned his trousers and long johns and took his cock out. He stroked it a few times before he penetrated Jared in his turn. There was nothing voluntarily nasty in this act beyond the basic rape, Lindberg was not playing on a hidden kink. He had succumbed easily to manipulation, poor lamb trying to survive amongst wolves by hurting other sacrificial lambs. There was no guessing what would happen once Lindberg was done and Jared had been taken by the four intruders to satisfy Plotnick's envy towards richer men and his thirst for power.

"Jensen," he thought, not above begging inside his own head, "please come and rescue me."

He didn't want his life to end like this. When the time came, he wanted Jensen to be there, holding his hand to tell him they would be together again in the next life and kissing his lips with all his love.

Jensen had promised to do his best to make an appearance at Aliénor's dinner. In the current situation, the aging woman couldn't entertain the way she used to and Jensen felt sorry for her, stuck in her old house, alone if not for her devoted people. But even then, she managed to gather quite a lot of information that Jensen had already put to good use. He hoped to learn more tonight about the counter-revolutionaries' projects. The prospect of seeing Jared there also caused him to hurry to finish his work and be on his way.

Only Jared wasn't there when he arrived, and Aliénor was obviously worried.

"He never missed any of our rendezvous in the past," she said, "not without sending word anyway."

"I'm sure it's nothing bad, Aliénor, he's probably just feeling under the weather and he fell asleep, comfortable in his bed. I'll go and check on him, if you don't mind."

"On the contrary, my dear, please go and take good care of him."

Jensen left with the promise that he would have Jared sending word as soon as he was there. To be perfectly honest, he was more than a little worried himself. Jared was totally reliable in regards to his friends or his job, and his absence might be the sign of something bad happening.

There were lights and noise coming from the dining room on the second story, which at any other time would lead him to think that Jared was having his own party right now at home. But Jensen knew Jared was not throwing parties these days, mostly out of respect for the events and all the deaths they had brought, and also because he didn't want to attract the wrong kind of attention.

But something was definitely wrong here.

Jensen didn't knock. He let himself in and went to confirm his first impression that there was no guest in attendance by checking the lodge for capes and coats. Two steps in, he stopped at once upon finding Jared's valet sitting on a chair, body straining to fall down but kept in place thanks to the ropes circling his torso.

Jensen raced to check on him. He had a moment of fear that Chadwick was dead already but the man moaned through his gag and showed him his bound hands as soon as he spotted him. The valet had probably played dead for the attackers' benefit.

"What happened ?" Jensen asked as soon as he had taken the gag off.

"Four men came in. I'm so sorry, Master Ackles, I couldn't fight them off."

"Don't worry, Chadwick, I know you did all you could. No one takes better care of Jared than you."

Jensen saw the partial relief hitting the valet but he didn't have time to make it really better.

"Where are they now ?"

"I'm not sure, I don't know how long I've been here unconscious, but the last time I saw them they were in the dining room. They had Master Jared naked and it was easy to know what they wanted."

"Did they say anything ?" Jensen asked again as he finished untying Chadwick. "Who they are ? Why they were here in particular ?"

"They're revolutionaries, I'm sorry," Chadwick repeated, well aware of Jensen's political beliefs. "They said they wanted a king's delicacy."

Jensen bit his lip in anger. He knew of course that some shameful people used the opportunity of the current political unrest to steal and murder, accusing their prey of anti-republican activities to justify their acts, but this struck too close. Too personal. You couldn't touch Jared and get away with it. They'd better not have hurt him or else Jensen didn't know what he would do. Let alone if…

Sure the men on the second story wouldn't hear him because of all the noise they made, Jensen went back to the entrance and gently whistled to attract the attention of one of the kids playing close-by. He paid him to go look for Ty, or the police in case his friend might be absent, and bring them back here as soon as possible. Promised with twice the price he had already earned if he did it quickly, the young messenger left running at the top speed his short legs could take him.

Back in the lodge, Jensen took one of the pistols Chadwick had dug up from their hiding place behind the row of Jared's multicolored coats. He armed it and then hesitated to let the valet come with him any further but Chadwick would not hear about staying behind.

"I've been in the army too, sir, and I know very well how to use a pistol."

Jensen realized there was nothing he could do or say, short of tying him again, to prevent Chadwick from repairing the mistake he thought he had made by not saving his master and his wife earlier. He didn't even know where Sophia might be. Probably hidden so well that no one would ever find her if she didn't want them to. Chadwick's face lit up with the shadow of a smile at the fond memory of their childhood and Sophia's talent at this game back then.

Jensen agreed and asked him to go to the dining room through the salon, while he himself would arrive by the other side. It was merely a trick to ensure they would not both be caught.

"You want to take the marble stairs ?" Chadwick concluded, afraid again. "Don't do that, Master Ackles. There's nowhere to hide, it's too dangerous !"

"Nah, I've done that kind of thing plenty of times, I know how to pass unnoticed. The trick is to attract people's attention elsewhere, but I'm pretty sure I won't need it with those men. They're probably drunk by now, and completely focused on Jared. You know how attractive your master is. I'll be fine. Now you be careful ! Don't do anything stupid and wait for my signal, or Sophia will have my head."

They each went their own way, Chadwick using the employees' mundane staircase, hidden behind a service door that was itself hidden behind a tapestry hanging on the wall, while Jensen began his slow and silent ascension of the huge marble one that had every new guest speechless in wonder.

As he had planned, no one noticed Jensen's presence when he managed to get to the wide-open double doors and hide behind one of them to take in the situation through the tiny space between door and wall. To keep thinking clearly, he forced himself out of the feelings of rage and murder when he watched as Jared, lying naked on the mahogany table, was fucked in the ass by one of the trespassers and in the mouth by another. The two other men were sitting on chairs, close enough to fondle any part of Jared's body in any way they wished while drinking endlessly.

"Guys, let's drink again for the Republic !"

Even the men currently fucking approved in a great shout and one of the seated so-called revolutionaries left towards the hallway to go get more bottles of Jared's pricy wine.

Jensen was reminded of another time, when he had hidden behind a mask and not a door to watch his lover entertaining a party. Jared had worn more clothes back then, not that much but it felt more natural, seduction in the making, not an obligatory offering of his beauty to the brute force of his kidnappers.

"I'll drink with you for this great cause, if it's okay," Jared proposed after his mouth was freed.

Even with the rough treatment occasioned by probably more than one dick down his throat, Jensen could read worry in his lover's voice. He was pretty sure, though, that the ruffians were all played by his theatrical joyfulness and the way he let them all touch him, especially the one who, going by Jared's fake reverence, seemed to lead the group. The man was still fucking Jared, showing no hurry and care, appreciating the gift he had stolen to the full of his ability. It took two more minutes at least to end it, two of the longest minutes Jensen had ever endured in his life.

Jensen was going to make the guy pay for everything.

The fourth man chose this moment to come back, two bottles in each hand and another one under each armpit, passing right next to him. Jensen didn't think. He emerged from his hiding place and pushed his loaded pistol against the man's temple, squeezing his other hand tight around his neck. No one saw them in the darker hallway until the bottles smashed on the floor, wine spilling over everything around, and then four pair of eyes, including Jared's, converged towards him.

"Looks like the cavalry's here, guys," the leader announced as he stood up with deliberate slowness and finished re-dressing, a smirk on his face, before he addressed Jensen. "What do you think you're doing, all alone against three men ? Four if I count Sanford in your arms. Hell, five ! Because I sure count our friend Jared, he's enjoying himself so much with us !"

"That's right, Plotnick," Jared intervened, sliding off the table to stand up again, "let me talk to him and explain the situation. I'm glad I was able to do this for you and I'm sure we can all come to an agreement without anyone being hurt."

"No need, beautiful. Your boyfriend is going to leave now, or he'll have to watch you taken again and again until you bleed to death before I kill him."

"Not a chance," Jensen objected. "Jared comes here and we leave together, otherwise I fire and you're dead."

"Maybe you can kill me, maybe Sanford too, but you're outnumbered. You won't make it out alive and you know it. Don't be dumb, just go. He won't be of any use to you now."

"I said he comes with me. He's mine, let him go."

"He's not yours. We all had him, man ! Best sex he ever had, with real men, not those ditzy, blue-blood weaklings he used to work for, and he made it so good for us all."

"And it's gonna be your last mistake," Jensen bellowed as he hit the guy in front of him with the butt of his pistol and then pushed his unconscious body at the man he wanted to kill.

Jared used the diversion to grip a vase on the nearby dresser and break it on the leader's head to try and slow him down. Chadwick moved in then, like a fury, to exchange blows with the oldest man. The guy might have been older, he was still a tough opponent for the valet, rusty and already sore from his earlier beating. Jensen could only take a look at Chadwick's situation once in a few seconds, when he felt like the two guys after him, the leader and the youngest, would stay away while they recuperated from his punches.

Jared took on the younger one, using everything Jensen had taught him over the years to defend himself. The guy quickly went down, no match at all against Jared's formidable size and his right hook.

It left only the leader for Jensen, both desperate to come out on top and kill their opponent. Each fired and missed several times, unable to aim properly while trying to hide from the other's pistol. Jensen used his last bullet when he saw an opening to wound and bring down Chadwick's adversary, the same guy he stumbled upon a few seconds later when he ran to a better hiding place and then fell, putting himself dangerously at Plotnick's mercy.

"Jensen !" Jared cried, terrified.

Jensen scrambled away, desperately searching for a weapon, and then saw the remains of Jared's broken china on the floor. Among dozens of crystal and earthenware shards, Jensen found what he needed just in time to turn around and face Plotnick's next attack.

The man was so close he didn't see Jensen's arm striking before the terrible pain hit and made him look down. The slender, jagged shard still protruded from the place where it was buried deep in the man's intestines. Blood began to seep, slowly at first, mixing with Jensen's where the crystal had cut his hand, then the flow intensified and Plotnick couldn't stay upright anymore. He sat and then lay on the floor, as his hand opened to let the pistol fall away and pull the shard out, only to make the blood pump faster out of his body.

Jared came by Jensen, shaken out of his fear when his lover moved in to take the pistol far from Plotnick. He settled a hand on Jensen's shoulder to make sure he was fine, before he turned to watch his attacker dying.

"I didn't believe you, you know," Plotnick whispered, blood leaking from his open mouth. "You're not a true republican. I was gonna kill you after I made you pay, because… because you're a parasite…"

He coughed and more blood spilled onto the floor.

"I wanted to kill you and I hope… I hope the Republic will get rid of you and your kind, once and for all."

Plotnick turned his head after that and refused to utter one more word.

When Ty arrived less than half an hour later with two of his men and the police, Plotnick was dead and the three other aggressors tied and ready to be taken into custody.

His face hidden in his lover's neck, body protected under his jacket, Jared never acknowledged anyone other than Jensen.

Two weeks after the drama which had unfolded at his house, Jared was seemingly well. He talked, albeit not much, about his rape, and lived quite normally, regardless of Jensen's worry that had pushed him to take a temporary leave of absence from work for the first time in his life.

"I wish I had a way to help you forget what happened," Jensen said, "what those men did to you, forcing you. No one deserves something like this, I know, but I love you so much. Call me petty but I feel like you deserved it even less than anyone else."

Jared's face was so close to his own, lying as they were, both on the same pillow, but Jensen fought to keep his hands to himself instead of playing with his lover's hair. They hadn't made love since Jared had been forced, Jensen waiting for his lover's lead to act accordingly.

"It's not the fucking that bothers me," Jared explained. "I've done that my all life, this is who I am, I get fucked for a living. I don't care that they took me, I care that they didn't pay, that they just took me, like they helped themselves to my cellar and drank my wine."

Jensen was in no place to say if Jared was being honest or if he was trying to shy away from the hurt. Either way, maybe the best move was to play along.

"You care that it was not for your job, I can understand that. You've had lots of clients, who all took you many times, but it was with your agreement. There was no consent in what happened that night. They forced you, even if you let them do it. But I want you to know how proud I am of you, for playing them like that and making them think they had subdued you. Any other path might have gotten you killed, and I would have died without you. But we're here, safe, you're next to me. I can still love you and feel your love. I've never asked for anything else in my life."

Jared took Jensen's hand to link their fingers.

"Do you remember what he said, in the end ?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. He just wanted to hurt you, make sure you would never forget. But he was wrong, so very wrong. You're my life, Jared. This Republic means nothing if you're not here to enjoy it with me."

Jared sniffled noisily.

"How can you even stand to look at me, after everything you saw ?"

"You're simply beautiful, and I can't see any difference between today and that day. You're still the man I love."

"You still find me beautiful ?"

Jensen smiled, glad to find a bit of amusement in the aftermath of Jared's ordeal.

"You're still the most beautiful man I've ever seen. You take my breath away every time my eyes fall on you, and I still can't believe my luck that you found it in your heart to love me back."

There were tears in Jared's eyes, which Jensen brushed away when they began falling on his cheeks. They lay there for a long while, silently, soaking up the pleasure of each other's presence in such close proximity, the certainty that they still had one another despite such a big scare, for as long as they wanted.

It took Jared a few more days to confess to his lover that only Jensen ever had the right to take him without paying and by Jared's will.

"The fact… I don't know. I let them have me, and it feels like a betrayal, somehow," he added, "like I betrayed you and you shouldn't want me anymore, because I've gone and given them the one thing that was only yours."

"Love, I don't see it like that. Not at all. There was a price, just like when you slept with McManus to be freed, but it was the biggest one this time. Your life was in the balance. So don't worry about this privilege you granted me. It's still mine, and I feel like the richest man for it."

Jared had a hard time coming to terms with this, though, and Jensen, already spending as much time as possible with his lover, racked his brain to find something to distract him that wouldn't involve his job or politics. Their daughter helped a lot, Jared forcing himself to show liveliness and enthusiasm in her presence, but the depression reappeared as soon as he was left alone while Licia studied and Jensen worked.

They were casually walking down the street after an appointment with Doctor Williams, admiring the unfinished house that a neighbor had begun to restore before the political unrest had the stock exchange crashing and his fortune washed away with it, when Jensen realized this was it. They needed a common project, something they would build together that would show Jared that Jensen put his faith and love in him more than ever.

"We should build our house," he proposed without thinking it through. "Find some place that we both like, outside of the capital, and have our house built there. Somewhere for the two of us only, and Licia of course, where we will invite only family and a few very close friends. Somewhere to retire at least once a year for a few weeks, to enjoy each other's company without the fuss of the city."

Jensen saw Jared's eyes and face change from one second to the next, from tiredness to interest then delight, already imagining where they would go, what they would create.

Thus began their big project.

Jared opened the door leading to the salon, listening to Jensen and Licia's voices getting louder as he approached. The girl was more and more argumentative – the curse of puberty striking – and she loved nothing more nowadays than a good verbal duel with Jensen. It never failed to amuse Jared to see how proud Jensen looked when he talked about his little girl, telling anyone who listened, and even those who didn't, about Licia's sharp mind and her latest scholastic accomplishment.

"Dad !" Licia cried in joy when she spotted Jared. "Papa got news from Gil, they agreed to the interview !!!"

Jared tried to hide his disappointment. Jensen had been waiting to hear from his boss for two weeks already, Jared the only one not particularly enthused by the prospect. It meant their holidays were about to end.

Ever since Jensen had dropped on him the wonderful idea to build their very own house, Jared's favorite time of the year had been the family holidays. Late spring or early summer, they tried every year to keep some time for themselves. About a month usually, sometimes divided in two parts or more when Jensen's work obligations took precedence.

Their not-so-little house, hidden by a forest of venerable oaks, was alive with the warmth of all the feelings, of all the love that had motivated its construction, and Jared felt like himself between those walls and amongst the trees. He used this free time to rebuild his strength for the upcoming months back at work. Any opportunity was employed to come for shorter weekends, most of the time alone with Jensen while Licia stayed with the Langhams or Jensen's parents, so that they managed for a little while to be once again a couple of fervent lovers, notwithstanding the fact that they had been together for some nine years by now and routine had crept up, here and there, to cement their relationship.

"Please, dad, say that I can go with papa," Licia begged in a tone just as impossible to resist as the pleading eyes Jensen said she had learned from Jared.

Then she took his huge hand, hardly covering it with her much smaller ones, and kissed it.

"Please, dad," she repeated.

"Why would you need to go there too ?" he teased her, exchanging a smile with Jensen over her head.

"Dad ! You know why !" she whined.

He knew, and he approved. The trip would be a fantastic opportunity to speak another language and to discover another lifestyle.

Licia loved languages. Besides her own, which she seemed to enjoy studying more than anything, she already had a very good grasp of two more and planned to add another one to her record in the upcoming year now that Misha had found her a private tutor. Jensen was entirely to blame for this passion in Jared's opinion, because of his habit since Licia's adoption to talk to her in the different languages he had had to learn for his job.

Jensen responded to Jared's silent query with a nod, verifying that he thought the trip to be safe. This was welcome news after the fright of his latest assignment. Jared was taking more and more to heart the fear caused by some of Jensen's dangerous travels, and he didn't hesitate anymore to ask him to step down and let some young, single and fearless journalist do the job in his place. There was no shame in guilting Jensen by reminding him of the fact that his lover and his daughter needed him alive and well, every day of the year.

"The three of us could go," he suggested later to Jensen, while Licia was already asleep and they enjoyed a late-night cuddle in their garden. "Together, as a family. I'll remain incognito and I promise I'll let you and Licia have your private job-related moments."

He had become very good at avoiding potential clients whenever they traveled together. This need to be remarked and admired, so powerful until a few years ago, had slowly deserted him. He still enjoyed the attention but rarely wished nowadays for more than Jensen's admiration.

"Only if we have our own private job-related moments too," Jensen answered with a kiss and a lazy caress on his ass. "And the non-job-related ones right after."

They kissed for a while, between sips of calva and Jensen throwing over them both a light blanket as the night turned cooler.

"So is it okay ? When are we leaving ?"

"Next Monday, if you're sure you want to come. Gil might accompany us. Don't tell my mother or she's going to ask once again when I'll marry him."

Jared's smile disappeared, even though he knew perfectly well this to be an old joke between Jensen and his mother, who was very aware of Jared's importance in Jensen's life and never had a problem with it.

"Hey, don't worry about that," Jensen told him, turning his face to kiss him again, with more amorous intent this time. "You know that I would only ever think of marrying you if I could afford it."

Jensen didn't wait for his answer before he let his hand slide under Jared's pants to stroke his rim, turning the kiss into something even more passionate that had Jared moaning and opening his legs.

Their conversation was never forgotten and it replayed again and again in Jared's mind in the following months.

Jared considered himself semi-retired. As in demand as he might be nowadays, he took only clients he viewed as interesting, ones who could bring in lots of money, or amuse him, or even teach him something new on any kind of topic. His limited availability had turned the opportunity to employ him into a privilege ; his hiring rate soared higher than ever.

Charles Whitfield was one of those interesting clients, cumulating the parts of amuser and teacher. He was a bit of a scoundrel, a charming one, who wore with panache splendid suits, a single blue-green tourmaline stud on his left ear and the matching ring on the opposite hand.

Jared almost felt inadequate next to him, and he happily succumbed to the need to buy a whole new, exciting and fanciful wardrobe. Jensen loved it. Especially the underwear. Especially the very tight ones.

Charles seduced people with enticing stories that rang completely fictional, but so fantastic, so imaginative, populated with such fascinating people that everyone, Jared included, wanted them to be true. Working for him was a delight, a game of seduction going both ways, and Jared always got back home happy and relaxed after their appointments.

He had worked hard on getting himself back to this mindset, learning to leave behind any and all hardships encountered on his way. Most of it anyway. The frightening night at the hands of the fake revolutionaries had left a lot of mental scars, but it had never increased or diminished his disinterest in politics, for Jared had known about men and lust for a long time.

In Jensen's case, though, it had triggered a major faith crisis tied with his dreams for a better world shattered by the image of Jared raped by people he could have called brothers in arms. He had struggled for a long while to reconcile his beliefs and the violent attack he had witnessed.

Jared had made it his mission to help his lover out of this bottomless pit of remorse and self-hate for encouraging sedition and not being there to protect Jared afterwards – looking back, Jared realized it had been far easier at that time to focus on Jensen's pain than deal with his own – by trying to get Jensen to write an article about his feelings and his impotent rage. Not something intended to be published, but a process to clarify his ideas and maybe find a bit of faith again. And then, for the first time, Jensen's pen had betrayed him.

So Jared had given him time and space. He had let him work through his jumbled thoughts, reminding him now and then that faith, as a matter of fact, could be put just as easily in their own family. This was where Jared had found his own peace and he liked to think this was also the main reason why Jensen had finally managed to accept the loss of what he called his political innocence to come to terms with the sometimes cruel distance between a beautiful ideal and its human rendition.

To enroll Charles' unwitting help appeared like a good idea in the project to finish getting Jensen back on his feet. It came to Jared when his client caught his attention more than ever by talking about treasury bonds during a dinner with a friend. The discussion did not reveal much, other than Charles was definitely hatching a scheme.

The first time Jared had heard about those bonds, Jensen was mentioning them for an article he could recall well enough. _"The treasury bonds issued by the newly elected government are meant to gather fluid assets sorely needed for the ongoing reconstruction of our society. It's our duty, as republicans, to help as much as possible in this endeavor. The country needs more schools and hospitals, roads and rails. We will only get them if we finance them."_ Jared had done his duty, buying bonds for the family and to show Jensen that he trusted their political leaders. Then Jensen had learned that a fifth of the bonds already printed had vanished, along with the master print.

And now Charles, who had already been convinced five years prior of a fraudulent scheme by garnering constant new investments to pay his previous investors' returns up to the day it all crashed down, gave all the signs of preparing a wicked plan designed to forge bonds and run away with the money.

Jensen agreed readily to talk with his client on the occasion of a falsely accidental meeting one night in a restaurant. As Jared introduced the two men, he realized the enormity of his action : for the first time, Jared had voluntarily brought Jensen to his client, or vice versa. He had willingly broken his number-one rule, and he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat to help Jensen's investigations.

When word got out that Jared had ratted out a client, his career would take a hit. And he just couldn't bother enough to look like he cared.

Jensen suggested that they all eat together and Jared agreed enthusiastically, although he didn't like much the look of pure lust shining in Charles' eyes whenever they were on Jensen, not any more than the show of charm and mutual interest displayed by his lover. Dinner was a fantastic experience anyway, the three of them competing in a battle of wits, all of them aware of the others' real reasons for being here and finding pleasure in trying to outwit them and get information.

Jensen won at this game. He learned enough through Charles' entertaining lies to pursue his investigation and help the police find out what had become of the master print. If Jared was sad to see Charles end up in prison again, he felt better for protecting many people's savings from his fraud.

Life went back to its normal course. What passed for normal in Jared's life anyway, knowing that with his new understanding of how little his job now meant to him, Jared couldn't stop thinking about quitting, once and for all.

And maybe marry his lover, if only to make Jensen's mother happy.

Jared had hoped for a letter from Jensen after five days of silence but although the return address was located right back in the capital, the sender happened to be Misha. Unusual occurrence, that had Jared's heart skipping a beat, suddenly afraid the missive would bring bad news.

_My dear friend Jared,_

_Sadly, my reason for reaching out to you this time isn't a happy one. Jensen's father passed away yesterday. It was swift and mostly painless for him, but this unexpected departure leaves a giant hole his family is of course struggling to fill right now._

_I know your loving friend won't write himself and ask for your support, for fear of messing with your affairs. But you know him as I do : he's hurting, trying to deal with everything at once, alone ; being there for his mother and the rest of the family, while I'm sure he could just as well use a shoulder to lean on for a while, as long as it's yours. Mine has been ceremoniously thanked and sent back home._

_Which is why, my dear Jared, I'm asking very clearly if there's any way for you to be back in the capital in a very near future, rather than by the end of the season. It was my honor to be a privileged witness, so many times over the years, to the special relationship you and our mutual friend share, that beautiful bond and the trust that go both ways. The question is, does Jensen fully realize the length you're prepared to go for him ?_

_I don't think he does, and that's why I took the liberty to write in his place. Now would be the ideal time to show him._

_Misha_

Jared felt astounded. There was no question in Misha's letter, he knew Jared would want to be there for Jensen.

And God ! How much did he want to be out there already ! The letter had taken three days to reach him. Even if he left right now, it was dubious Jared could be in time to stand by Jensen's side during the funeral.

He needed so badly to be there.

He would pack a small travel bag and leave Chadwick behind to gather his stuff, take the first train back home and fly right back to Jensen to support him, lend him his considerable force, his boundless love, anything to make him feel even marginally better in this terrible moment.

Jared's past two months on the Lagoona had been quite pleasant and if it wasn't for the fact that he was so far away from his family and missing them like crazy, he probably would have called his time here one of the best deals of his life as a courtesan. His hesitation to take on the job offered by the young and shy man who had asked to meet him in his Vaporous Boudoir had been quickly overthrown after some quick research had shown that Eric Johnson, inventor suddenly turned billionaire, could become a very legitimate client.

As it happened, Eric was so out of his depth amongst royalties and celebrities vacationing on the Lagoona and exhibiting their wealth that Jared felt the need to take the younger man under his wing and show him the world. They dined, they wined, they danced and played at the casinos. A great time was had by all, and Jared realized after he announced his imminent departure that Eric's feelings for him went far deeper than requested by a commercial exchange.

"Is it marriage you want ?" Eric wondered. "Because I can offer it to you. You and I, Jared, we're good together. Best sex I've ever had ! We could have a sweet life."

Jared stood gaping at Eric and his out-of-left-field proposition.

He had worked so many years for such an offer, and it couldn't come at a worst moment. He didn't have time to deal with this.

"Eric, it's so very generous of you, and I can't thank you enough. But this is not what I'm after. It's very simple. My friend needs me. I have to go."

"Even if I decide to end our contract."

"Even then. Some people are way more important than the best job out there."

"Alright. I can't say I'm not disappointed but I hope you and your "friend" will be very happy, Jared."

As painful as it felt to watch Eric's regrets and sadness, Jared had forgotten about it in the next few minutes.

They agreed to terminate the contract after Jared mentioned he had no idea when, and if, he would be able to come back. He was ready to stay with Jensen for however long he'd need him after such a devastating loss.

By the end of their discussion, Chadwick was back from the station with a train ticket for Jared and another one for himself later on, as well as the assurance that he would follow Jared no later than the next day with all his remaining stuff. His valet collected a few essential items for his return home, as well as food for the duration of the trip, and he accompanied Jared to make sure his distraught master caught the right train on time. It felt like baby-sitting to Jared, but it made him think about the kind of help Jensen would need from him.

His lover was a proud man, one who thrived on taking charge and would certainly not appreciate being turned back into a child because he had just lost his beloved father. On the contrary, Misha had made very clear in his letter that Jensen had already taken on the parent's role. Jared would have to dose the amount of support he was going to lend to Jensen, know when to be there and when to let him cry by himself.

They tended to share pretty much everything these days, but Jared would make sure to shut up about Eric's marriage proposal. It would only hurt Jensen and make him worry, even if Jared assured him that he never imagined saying yes.

He had been offered marriage.

He still couldn't believe it. Even with time now to think about it, the proposal felt strange, unreasonable. Wrong opportunity, wrong place, wrong person. Eric was a nice guy, a pleasant client, but that was it.

Marriage was about so much more than security and money. _Life_ was about much more than security and money. Jensen had taught him that all these past years.

It was becoming impossible to hide from the fact that there would only be one marriage proposal Jared would ever accept.

He made it in time, if only barely. He had sent a telegram to Misha, informing him he was getting onto a train and would be back in the capital by the next morning. At the end of the long, boring and tiring trip, Misha had a chauffeur waiting for him at the railway station, who took him back home to change quickly into an outfit better suited for the occasion and then drove him straight to the cemetery.

Jensen had no words when he saw him. But the look of relief on his face was telling, just enough for Jared to understand he had been right to let everything else go to be with his lover right now.

They took the time to hug for a while, Jensen's face buried in Jared's neck with his tears falling freely under his collar, and then stood side by side during the ceremony, Jensen refusing to detach his hand when Jared tried to make a place for the rest of the family. It didn't seem to bother anyone, though. A crying Licia firmly wedged between them, Jensen's little sister took Jared's other hand, while Jensen's mother stood on the other side, next to her son, now the head of the Ackles family.

They all made him feel a part of this, although Jared had never met them as much as he would have, had Jensen and he engaged in a more regular relationship. But on the rare occasions he did, Jared had seen where Jensen had gotten his ideals, as well as his good looks and nicety. The Ackles belonged to the small bourgeoisie but their doors were always opened to everyone, Jared included. They judged people only over facts – and Jensen claimed he had learned from them the virtue of investigation instead of believing the first person who spoke – especially their willingness to make this world a better place for every man and woman, and not only themselves.

Ackles senior was kind of aloof on a first impression, but he had never made Jared feel any less than welcome. He acknowledged without words the place Jared occupied in his son's life, the feelings tying them together.

"He loved talking with you," Jensen told him one night, about a week after the burial. "He loved your quick mind and your constant happiness."

"I wasn't sure if he approved of our relationship," Jared answered. "I thought he might have preferred to see you married to a nice woman, with a few children already."

"He preferred to see me happy with the man I love."

"I'm so glad you dragged me here," Jensen whispered in Jared's ear. "Gil's a good friend, and an even better boss, but I was getting tired of the all-nighters."

Jared's jealousy flared without missing a beat at this announcement. Having faith in Jensen didn't mean he had no reason to be scared of the concurrence. And Gil sure felt to him like the wolf in the sheep's den. Jensen and he worked together almost every day, shared so many interests and a fierce desire for the world to become a place where all men could live as brothers. The constant changes brought by the revolution pulled them along in a meeting of minds and hopes that Jared feared his love would never rival.

This feeling of inadequacy next to Gil partly stemmed from the fact that the aristocrat-turned-editor had never asked to sleep with him. Jared had wondered for so long about that, imagining that maybe Gil had hired him to see what kept Jensen tethered to his courtesan. Even Jensen's admission about asking his friend to do it in an attempt to help Jared get back on his feet hadn't reassured him completely. Jared's skill at reading looks told him more than he wished to know about Gil's feelings for Jensen.

He would not tell Jensen about it, though. Better to distract him from the other man's crush and everything they had been through in the past few years.

Jared had taken Jensen to the musette balls early in their relationship and they loved nothing more for a good time in public than dancing in this environment where they could be spontaneous and show their love for each other with heated kisses and risqué embraces among people who couldn't care less about propriety. Jared far preferred that kind of entertainment and music to the pompous balls where his protectors liked to show him off. These were the kind of amusements he grew up with, the ones that felt true and important to him.

The piano announced the next number, quickly joined by the accordion. The rhythm had slowed down a bit for this wordless song and Jensen pulled Jared closer to him for a slow oscillation, slower than the song's cadence, leaving Jared acutely aware of the way their bodies touched, of Jensen's lips following a fantasy trail along Jared's neck.

Jensen began to hum in his ear, in time with the singer. The sound sent shivers right through Jared's whole body. Tonight's artist was one of their favorites, one with a really nice voice, but Jensen's resonated deeper for Jared, touching something profoundly inside of him, an echo of a primal thirst to belong and be owned right now by his man.

The singer cracked a joke that had Jensen and most of the audience laughing but Jared, head laid on Jensen's shoulder, didn't hear more than the rumble of his lover's joy. He made his hold tighter, vaguely conscious of the people singing around him. The magical atmosphere, bathed in the low light of the multicolored papier-mâché lampions of the open-air café, was enhanced by the night's sweetness and the general crooning indicative of a pleasant mood.

"Love that song," Jensen murmured. "Feels like you, melodious and heady. Beautiful. It stays in your head forever and makes you happy."

The tremors of the clapping around them as people thanked the band on stage for the good time didn't disrupt their gentle swaying and Jared shivered under Jensen's spell.

The rhythm picked up again for the next song but the two lovers never moved away from each other. Though they complied with the lyrics when the singer asked to be kissed again and again by his lover, they kept swaying far, far slower than the music required. They needed the closeness, the feeling of love and passion going from one to the other ceaselessly.

If anyone had recognized them, no patron had said a word or made them feel at odds. Both of them had dressed simply to blend in. Here, Jared didn't need the alluring trademark suits. He stopped being Jared Padalecki, famous courtesan, and went back to being Jared, Jensen's lover. It showed in the tight yet simple black trousers and white shirt he wore, only adorned by a large deep-blue belt, perfect complement to Jensen's own outfit. And as they swirled around the dance floor, lost in kisses and caresses, no spectator could tell who led or who followed.

They abandoned themselves to the rhythm for hours, tiredness forgotten in favor of the endless pleasure, until the first rays of dawn pierced the sky and Jensen dragged Jared towards the nearby dark bushes to go down on his knees and prepare Jared for love.

Jared gave himself to the feeling of Jensen's fingers breaching his rim, caressing his inner wall, making love to his prostate. When Jensen finally entered him, Jared's eyes opened again to take in the beautiful lampions visible over the bushes and shrubs, his heart filled with the same joy they evoked, the soft glow they emitted casting a sensation of peace and warmth all around.

As he moaned and got closer to orgasm with each new thrust from his lover, Jared knew this was the life he wanted to enjoy and protect forever.

Jared had stopped working after his return from the Lagoona. Eric was a good conclusion to his career, his marriage offer the proof that Jared had succeeded and could now put that part of his life to rest.

Jensen never mentioned his availability, probably afraid that Jared would take it as the sign that he was ready to be left alone, the hardest part of his grieving now behind him.

But Jared was really done. He had so much money, hidden in different banks throughout the country as well as abroad to make sure a coup d'état wouldn't spoil him of all his earnings at once, that he felt ashamed at times to be so well-off. Not enough, though, to get rid of it.

Sure, no one knew about Eric's offer, but Jared had surprised himself to realize he didn't need anyone's validation anymore. All he needed was to make sure Jensen would be his forever.

This tectonic shift, deep inside himself, it felt so huge ; as if the whole world would be able to get the same sensation, just because Jared had suddenly recognized he was not the same man anymore.

Unless it was just his priorities that had shifted. But Jared felt quite sure by now that being in love didn't mean giving up on his freedom. It meant adjusting, mixing, leading, following, offering, receiving. Sharing your load and taking it off the shoulders of the man you loved.

He was certain Jensen felt the same about it, but he'd never take the last step for the very reason he had given in jest a few months earlier, his impossibility to afford someone as high-maintenance as Jared.

Jared had to be the courageous one here and propose. Right now, to avoid losing courage.

"Jensen, marry me," Jared calmly proposed.

"Excuse me ?" Jensen almost squeaked in reply.

"You heard me. Jensen Ackles," he continued, putting a knee on the floor, "please say that you love me and that you'll spend the rest of your life as my lawful husband, just as I love you and want to live with you forever."

"But… What of your job ? Your liberty ? Your will to make as much money as possible, for as long as you're able to work, to be sure you'll never lack for anything ?"

Jared tried to answer but Jensen went on too quickly for him.

"I make a good wage, enough to have us both living the easy life if you were anyone else, but nothing that can match your usual way of life. You'd be bored so quickly, living with me at all times."

"We've been doing nothing but that for months now, love."

"Maybe, but you knew it would come to an end sooner or later. Marrying me would put a definitive end to your career as a courtesan. You know I would never accept you sleeping with other men if you were mine."

"As it should be, and just like I would never accept you sleeping with anyone else either."

"Jared, I can't ask you to wait for me at home like a good househusband, not after the hectic life you've led."

"Yes, you can. Because there's a very simple solution to this problem : I will help with your work, just like I've done so many times already over the years. I can't get bored if I'm writing articles with you, or helping with the research."

Jensen kept looking at him, undecided, and Jared stood up again.

"I've thought about my proposal long and hard, love. It's not a caprice. I know I often put you after my needs, but I've changed so much in the time we've been together. I've moved on, and a lot of that is thanks to you and your help during the last ten years. I'm not frightened anymore of what I'd miss, but who. After working on this for so long, I know I'm ready."

"Really ? You asked me once to be patient with you and I agreed. I'm not going to go back on my word if you need more time."

Jared smiled fondly. That promise had been made more than five years ago. But Jared was not surprised that time didn't matter to him ; Jensen was that kind of man, and Jared loved him even more for it.

"And you wonder why I want to marry you ? You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you have to know that. The best man I ever met, the only one I've ever loved. I've wanted to marry you for a long while, I just needed both of us to be committed, and I know we are now."

"I want to, Jared, you have to know that, but…"

Jared prevented the next argument by kissing Jensen and reminding him of another reason why they needed to be together. Jensen's glazed eyes showed his acceptance of Jared's win when they came back for air.

"Okay," Jensen agreed. "I'll marry you, since you ask so nicely."

Jared's delighted cry of joy was muffled when he went back for another batch of hot kisses.

"Where are we going to live ?" Jensen asked, much later.

"Either here in your house, or we'll find a new, bigger one to fit us all, servants included. I'm not letting go of Chadwick and Sophia."

"Of course you're not, but what about your house ?"

"I've sold it," Jared announced, as unconcerned as if saying that the sky was blue.

Jensen stared at him, maybe trying to decide whether this was a joke or the truth.

"You sold your house ?" he repeated. "The one you've spent millions on, turning it into a kind of palace with years of improvement ?"

"That very house, and I got my millions back by selling it."

"Who did you sell it to ?" Jensen inquired, still clearly unsure.

"The Ministry of the Navy."

"The government bought the house of a courtesan to host its Navy offices," Jensen said, nonplussed, and then he burst into laughter.

"Omundson, right ?" he asked once he had calmed down. "He always was a bit of a diva."

"Right. The minister and I had a very genuine, very interesting conversation a short while back at Aliénor's. He reminded me of his attendance at a few of my Padarties, at a time when he couldn't afford to buy me, not beyond my very appreciated public stripteases, and he had to watch "smug old royalist fossil" Pileggi, as my client of the moment, be the guest of honor of the receptions in my gorgeous house. He added that this was a sad time when he was finally able to pay for my service but I seemed to have closed shop. On the spur of the moment, I told him that I may not be on the market anymore, but my house was. The idea seduced Omundson right away. Not even a full week had passed before we signed the deal. And now we can afford the house we want for the both of us."

Jensen took Jared's hands in his.

"Are you sure you won't miss it ? You put so much time and care into this."

"Never as much as I did for our own country house. I told you from the beginning, it didn't reflect who I was, only who I was supposed to be to please my clients. It was beautiful, and I'm glad to know other people will enjoy it from now on, but we don't need this."

"So you've really decided to quit," Jensen seemed to accept the fact at last. "You're ready to live in a much simpler, bourgeois house with outbuildings, with a husband and a teenage kid, the in-laws trying to weigh in on your every decision, Wallace all insulted and bickering because Chadwick's pranking the man all the time just to get a rise out of him. This will be so different from what you wanted your life to be when we met."

"I think I had a dream, but never the necessary drive to make it as big as some of my colleagues. Not since I met you anyway, and never for the right reason. I was always torn between the job and you. I've always known who would win ultimately, but I fooled myself for a long while, imagining I had built a solid partition between you and the job, that I didn't think about you when I entertained clients. Every time I'd slip – and believe me, I slipped a lot – I'd call it an exception. But the truth is that you've been in my thoughts since the beginning, whatever the time of day, the occasion or the place. You've been my real drive for such a long time that I'm not sure getting married will look that different for either of us."

"You didn't need any drive for the job. You've always glowed brighter than any other courtesan."

Jared thanked him with a smile and a gentle kiss.

"I assure you, there's no need to worry about me and my decision. I won't regret it, and I'm quitting while I'm ahead. They'll all remember me at the top of my glory, the most beautiful courtesan mankind has ever seen. Kind of a good retirement benefit, it seems," Jared finished smugly.

"You're a man, love. Chances are, you'll get more and more beautiful with age and maturity and you could still be the most sought-after courtesan in ten years or more. That's what I see every time I wake up next to you."

Jared paused, and then his hands came up to cup his lover's face.

"Don't think for one second that the same rule doesn't apply to you. And I want to keep waking up _every morning_ next to you. To be able to attend any and all soirée you're invited to, not choose my clients over you because work has to come first. To leave with you and Licia on your work trips for months if need be. I want us three to be a family that no one will be allowed to separate. Trust me, love. I know what I want and money is not an issue. Even if you were not able to provide for both of us, even before I sold the house, I've made enough money to last us two or three lifetimes."

Jensen leaned down, ill at ease, and he stroked the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not the jealous type. Not about who you've been sleeping with for the job, anyway. It's just that… every time I remember you offered yourself to so many other men during your career, I can't help but wonder if I'll ever be enough for you. I told you, Jared, this is my limit. There's no marriage for me outside of the utmost fidelity."

It hurt Jared, so much, to see Jensen's breaking point with such clarity now. His worst fear. The one thing he had told Jared on their first date. Would I ever be enough for you ? Not in such explicit words, maybe, but the intention was there already. Jared was finally able to answer positively and be sure he meant it.

He didn't need anyone or anything else anymore. He had made peace with himself, knew his own value didn't stem from how much money he was able to take from others. His needs had shifted over the years, and he was at a place in his life where all he needed was the man he loved. At last. This incredible man who had put up for so long with Jared's fears and needs, always placing his own desires after his lover's, because love was as natural to him as air and water.

"I guess the good thing about you quitting is that I won't have to fight anymore against your crazy clients," Jensen smiled. "I hear the government has decided to forbid duels anyway."

"Right, another good reason. Not to mention that as your husband I won't let you put your life in danger that way anymore."

With a kiss, and then another one, the deal was sealed. Every detail of their wedding they agreed on was punctuated by more kisses, until words segued into caresses and they forgot about making plans.

Telling their family could wait for a few more hours. There would come a time to announce the engagement officially, to choose best men and wedding bands, to authorize the world to invade partly their bubble of happiness. Now was not that time.

Jensen and Jared's marriage remained a simple affair, attended only by their family and close friends. Jared's only regret had to do with Anita's absence but his sister managed to send him a short unsigned missive to offer her congratulations and best wishes.

Many socialites tried to get invited but they could only claim to be seen at the reception offered by the newlyweds after they were back from their honeymoon. Some of them cackled that, after a ten-year-long engagement period, the trip far away was intended to hide the fact that the old lovers preferred to enjoy the views rather than steam up the bedroom.

Jensen let it go as usual, proud to be able to call himself a husband after all this time, and to show off the man he had finally snatched away from everyone else. Jared was more annoyed, mostly on Jensen's behalf, and he proceeded to display his love in the most outrageous manner in front of all his guests. He had no trouble doing so ; just like their first, unofficial honeymoon some eight years ago, the second one had definitely enhanced their relationship and they both felt like they were still walking on clouds.

Jared ultimately learned to ignore in his turn all the jealous people and the naysayers. Married life looked good on him, and whenever he felt some part of his previous life as a loss, he found ways to bring it back in the new one and share it with Jensen. His dinners quickly became popular, a fine table at which elegant people and erudite persons sat with pleasure. They came for Jensen at first, and maybe to witness what all the fuss was about the couple of the year, but soon Jensen helped them appreciate that Jared was as much of a draw in the intellectual or savory discussions that inevitably took place late into the night.

Jared feared he would make a fool of himself for a while, but Jensen's encouragements pushed him to use his mind, like a muscle he had forgotten how to exercise for too long, or used in a far too selective way. It felt good to be able to show he was not only a great lay, to debate his arguments without the need to back off in time to avoid pissing off a client. It felt even better to be admired by other people for it, and more than ever by his very own husband.

Together, they learned to count on each other, to share time and activities. Jensen had always respected Jared's insight into other people's character and motivations, which had led to his asking for Jared's opinion about his articles. The dinner debates showed him that Jared could still be a great help to make people talk freely, even out of his courtesan capacity. Slowly, more officially than ever before, Jared turned into a journalist's assistant. He continued to proofread his husband's pieces and books, but he also alerted him to interesting topics and new ideas.

It went on so smoothly that after a few years Gil offered Jared a job at the Gazette – probably on Jensen's proposition, but still Jared's pride had never climbed that high. His unpaid task thus became an official role. Jared had the contacts and the knowledge, not to mention the socializing skills, to introduce Jensen everywhere or collect data and interviews by himself. There would always be some dickheads refusing to talk to a former prostitute, but most people were rather nice. As if getting married had somehow erased his past by making him an honest man. Even though those nice dispositions sometimes went to the point of trying to seduce him back to his old profession.

Jared smirked and thanked them for showing interest before he went back to work. He had known how to deal with amorous men for so many years, and brandishing his married status helped to convince the most fervent would-be clients to abandon any hope. Rare were those who insisted beyond this point, especially when Jared let them fear a very public mention of their lewdness in the Gazette.

Being married and working with your husband also meant that they could take Licia with them whenever their travels didn't take them to dangerous places. Their daughter thrived then, passionately imitating her parents and begging to help with the job, even in her limited abilities. She probably learned right there, under the watchful eye of Jensen and Jared, to use her prettiness and charm to make people too confident to hide better their dirty little secrets. She also watched how powerful a weapon flattery could become on the right target. She admired Jensen talking interviewees round and bringing them where he needed, teaching her where to look for the information he wanted.

Jared rode along all those formative years, bringing to the table everything he had learned, and he couldn't love his life more than when he felt they had accomplished something together.

Dad's letter was waiting for her when Licia arrived at the little guesthouse where she was renting a room for the duration of her trip. She missed her parents so much, far from them for more than two months now. She also kind of wanted to meet again, properly this time, the new journalist at the Gazette she had bumped into on her last visit as she was hurrying to her editor's office…

She loved her job, just as much as she loved traveling, but the separation was hard to take for a young woman so close to her family. Now she got why her papa had often said in the past that, as the years went by, it proved more and more difficult to leave dad and her behind whenever he had to travel for a long while.

_My darling Licia,_

_Sweetheart, Jensen and I have been so impressed to read your interview of the Red Tycoon ! Jensen said he wished he had your talent at the same age. You made him so proud !_

_I've bought all the Gazettes to be found in the capital that Jensen hadn't snatched already and sent your article to all our friends and acquaintances. People stop me in the street, neighbors and strangers alike, to tell me they've read it, how much they admired your style and your analysis of this leading character. They all loved it !_

_I can't wait for you to come back home so that we can have a small party to celebrate this._

_And then maybe we'll have another one, to celebrate something else. You know Jensen has been pushing me forever to "ride alone" at last but unlike you I could never gather enough courage. Remnants of my dissipated past, insults from clients I took to heart, certainty of never being quite good enough, despite Jensen's encouragements and faith. I was sure my place was in helping or researching, but that I could never write alone._

_Until yesterday, that is. Never doubt it, you definitely inspired me. Jensen played his part when he refused to write anything about our last trip, not even to share the credit, claiming it was my turn. He simply told me to write for the Gazette as I've been writing to him for so many years, whenever we've been apart._

_It was such a joy to let the words come to me and permanently mark the sheet of paper. This was yet another freedom your father offered me, and I still feel like I'm flying today. Did you get that same feeling the day your first book was published ? Like you had made it, against all odds. The battle was over, and you stood waiting for the next one, confident in your ability to win, again and again. Confident that even a failure could never keep you down for long, because you knew what you're truly made of and you've got the scars to prove it._

_There's a short list of major dates I keep close to my heart. My founding dates, I call them : the day I met you, the day I met Jensen. Now I feel I can add the date when my first article was published : the day I met myself._

_After a long life detour, it seems Jared Padalecki is finally complete – as complete as he can be in the present time at the very least. Ready to show it to the world. I guess it's well worth a party, isn't it ?_

_I look forward to your return, darling. You know I don't like it when I can't hug you regularly and remind you how much I love you. So come back home soon and travel safe. Your papa sends his love too._

_Your loving dad._

Felicia put the letter down and took the article her dad had included out of the envelope. His signature below the title rushed the tears that fell from her eyes and everything blurred, rendering her unable to read.

She didn't care right now. The important part was that Jensen had finally succeeded, and Licia didn't need to see him to know how overjoyed he felt right now for Jared. How proud and happy. Probably just as much as Jared.

There was a lesson to remember here, Licia thought. Life might take its time, and yet the best was always to come.

~~~~~~FIN~~~~~~


End file.
